


Hermione Granger and the Society for the Protection of Elvish Welfare

by gatheringblues



Category: Harry Potter - J. K. Rowling
Genre: F/F, Genderqueer Character, Multi, Order of the Phoenix (Harry Potter), Polyamory, Queer Themes, Social Justice
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2017-10-30
Updated: 2018-06-22
Packaged: 2019-01-26 19:11:56
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 15
Words: 29,717
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/12564268
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/gatheringblues/pseuds/gatheringblues
Summary: During her fifth year at Hogwarts, Hermione has a lot going on. There's weekly meetings for S.P.E.W., the Queer Youth Connection, and Dumbledore's Army; her heavy load of classes, upcoming O.W.L.s, and prefect duties; the ongoing threat of war, Umbridge, and Harry is unravelling. Among all of that pressure, she's falling for two of her closest friends simultaneously.She's a witch ahead of her time, and she's going to save the world.Eventual triad with Ginny, Hermione, and Luna.Archive warnings may change if the story ends up becoming a little more descriptive ;) There is definitely some swearing that happens here too.





	1. Summer at #12 Grimmauld Place

**Author's Note:**

> These characters belong to JK Rowling, I'm just making them a hell of a lot more queer and giving Hermione friends other than Ron and Harry.

"Watch it!" Hermione shouted as Ginny swooped down low to the table on her broom and scattered Hermione's books and papers.  
Ginny laughed and spun her broom around, "Come on, Hermione. We've weeks until school starts again. You don't need to start studying yet. Come play with us."  
Hermione shook her head. "I need to review my notes from last year so that I remember everything before starting to read my textbooks for this year."  
Ginny rolled her eyes. "We haven't been to Diagon Alley yet. You don't even have next year's books yet."  
"I want to start studying as soon as we get them."  
"Please?"  
"No," Hermione insisted. "I'll watch you for a bit though."  
Ginny whooped and flew up to snatch the Quaffle from Fred. She rolled between George and Ron, put on an extra burst of speed, and hit the painted target.  
Hermione spent another minute watching as George scored, and then Ginny scored again before she lost interest and turned back to her books.  
She shuffled through her notes, trying to find where she had left off, but she was too distracted. The shouts of the Weasley family above her kept piercing her concentration, and most of her attention wasn't on her notes to begin with.  
She was worried about Harry. It was hard to write to him consistently when there was so much she couldn't tell him about. He didn't even know that she was with the Weasleys, or that they weren't at The Burrow. She tapped her quill anxiously on the parchment, spraying little dots of ink across her notes.  
Even after four full years at Hogwarts she couldn't cure herself of the habit of tapping her pen whenever she was nervous or thinking.  
"What is the blazes are you doing?" Mrs. Weasley shouted from the doorway.  
Her children halted in mid air and Ron dropped the quaffle.  
"Quidditch practice." Fred said, a wide grin on his face.  
"And why," said Mrs. Weasley, huffing, "in Merlin's name are you practising Quidditch in the backyard?”  
“Where else can we practice?” said George. Ginny and Ron were still frozen in place, not daring to look away from their mother. "We're stuck here, just like Sirius. It's no wonder he's gone half mad."  
Mrs. Weasley sucked in a huge breath at this and her voice got deadly quiet.  
"You will get off your brooms this instant and hand them to me. What if the quaffle, or worse, one of you, flew outside the wards? We’d have half of Muggle London gathering outside and draw the attention of the Ministry to this house. What were you thinking?”  
Her children nodded, mute, and brought their brooms to her.  
"Sorry, mum," Fred and George said together. Ginny and Ron nodded in agreement.  
Mrs. Weasly looked over their sorrowful faces and nodded once firmly, then turned and marched back into the house, their brooms tucked under one arm.  
Fred and George looked at each other and shrugged. Then their faces broke into grins, clearly plotting something, and raced inside. Ron traipsed after them, feet dragging on the grass, and Ginny came to sit beside Hermione.  
They sat in silence for a while. Hermione kept catching herself tapping her quill. Mrs. Weasleys had been on edge ever since she had arrived at number 12 Grimmauld Place. She was likely to go off on anyone for any small thing, and never gave herself a moment's rest. Instead, she had attacked the house and the nasty Dark spells and creatures it contained with vengeance, as though the war she waged against the darkness in the house directly translated into successes for the Order. It was worse when Mr. Weasley had guard duty.  
Ginny scooted her chair closer and laid her head on Hermione's shoulder. "Are you done studying yet?"  
"Pretty much. I'm having a hard time concentrating anyways."  
"Would you plait my hair?" Ginny asked.  
Hermione smiled. "I'd love to. Let's go upstairs."

Hermione tied off the ends of Ginny's braids and pulled her friend into her so that they were cuddling, Ginny's back nestled against Hermione's front.  
Ginny hummed and wiggled herself closer to Hermione, who smiled. She knew that after getting her hair brushed and braided, the thing that Ginny loved most was being held.  
Hermione leaned her head on Ginny's shoulder and breathed deeply, relaxing.  
"Hermione?"  
"Yeah?"  
"I don't know if I want to go back to Hogwarts."  
Hermione scoffed, "Of course you do. Where else would you go?"  
"I'm serious," said Ginny. "Everyone in the Order has been so out of sorts, especially mum. And the things that they've been saying in The Daily Prophet about Dumbledore and Harry are really awful. If anyone believes it I think we're going to have a really dreadful year at school."  
Hermione nodded. "You're right. The Ministry is making such a muck of things, I wouldn't wonder if it carried over to Hogwarts. We have to go back though."  
"Why?"  
"Well," Hermione paused, trying to breathe deeply despite her lungs having shrunk to a quarter of their size. If she didn't go back to school, then she would never learn magic, and they would never let her be a witch, and she'd have to go back to the Muggle world, but she'd missed so much of Muggle school she'd be so far behind, and everyone would think she was stupid, and she'd never find a job and her parents would be forced to take care of her for her whole life.  
Hermione forced her lungs to open up again, though it hurt. "Because school is important."  
"School is important," Ginny dead panned, then stuck her tongue out at Hermione.  
"Hey! It is!" Hermione said, and then tackled her friend, holding her down on the bed and tickling her.  
"No, no, no!" Ginny gasped through her giggles, pushing at Hermione's hands.  
Hermione stopped tickling her. "Actually no?" she asked.  
"I like it when you tickle me."  
Hermione attacked her again with more vigor until Ginny was panting and limp. Then she pulled Ginny's head onto her lap and stroked her hairline.  
"We have to go back to school. We have lots of work to do." Hermione said.  
"I know. It's just - "  
Downstairs the front door slammed and there was a loud clatter as something was knocked over.  
"Tonks," said Ginny, rolling her eyes with a fond smile.  
The portrait of Sirius's mother started shrieking, but they could still hear Ginny's mother over the din.  
"Who in the blazes was supposed to be on guard duty?"  
"That's not good," said Ginny.  
"Something's wrong."  
The pair crept onto the landing and peered over the edge, not daring to let more than their eyes over the bannister. Neither wanted to suffer Mrs. Weasley's wrath if she caught them spying on the Order.  
"Here," said George over Hermione's shoulder, offering her a thick, fleshy string.  
Hermione jumped and swallowed her yell. She hasn't heard the twins come up. Ginny hadn't twitched.  
Ginny punched George's shoulder. "Don't scare Hermione. She's not used to siblings,” she whispered. She took one of the strings. "Are these safe? I don't want them exploding in my ear again."  
"Weasley approved," whispered Fred with a wink.  
"That counts for nothing," Ginny replied, but she inserted the Extendable Ear and dangled it over the railing.  
"Dumbledore is already on his way to the ministry." Tonk's hushed voice sounded as though she was speaking directly to them.  
"What about -"  
"And he sent an owl to tell Harry to stay put," Tonks interrupted Mrs. Weasley. "We need a way to get him here without getting him killed."  
Everyone on the landing stared at each other with wide eyes.  
"What the hell happened?" asked Ginny.  
Hermione shook her head. This was serious. Dumbledore would only go to the ministry if things were very bad considering how much Fudge feared him and the propaganda the Prophet spewed. What had happened to Harry?  
"We need Alastor and more members of the Order as an escort," said Mrs. Weasley.  
“He and a few of the others are already on their way. We need to have a plan for when they get here and plus everything ready to go as soon as Dumbledore gives us the go-ahead," Tonks said. They walked into the meeting room and out of range of the Extendable Ears.  
"What are we going to do?" asked Fred.  
"Nothing."  
The others turned to Hermione in shock.  
"Your mother isn't going to let us do anything. There are several trained Aurors and some of the best wixes* we know who will be going to get him. They don't need us and we won't be helpful."  
Ginny had stopped looking shocked and had started listening.  
"And they'll be bringing him here, because this is the safest place in Britain right now. So we can get ready for him to arrive," Ginny continued Hermione's thought.  
"He's going to be angry," she added and Hermione nodded.  
"Angry? Why would he be angry?" Asked Fred.  
"Because we've been here all this time together, with Sirius, and he's been alone."  
"Hedwig!" George said, as the great white owl swooped down and dropped a letter on Hermione's lap. She pecked Hermione's hands several times and then flew upstairs with two more letters.  
Hermione hurried to open it and read it quickly.  
"It's from Harry. He and Dudley were attacked by a Dementor and he got a letter from the Ministry telling him he's going to be expelled," she said. Her face was blank and her tone expressionless, unbelieving.  
"A Dementor was out and about a Muggle town?" asked Fred.  
"That means the ministry sent it. Or the Dementors are no longer under their control," said Ginny.  
"Shit," said Fred.  
"There's no way the ministry is going to admit to either of those things," said Hermione. "Harry's in trouble."  
"We're the masters of trouble! We'll get him out of it!" Fred and George said together, overly cheery.  
Hermione gave them a withering look, "Don't be ridiculous. It's good they are bringing him here. Fred and George, go tell Ron to clear out the other side of his room and get it ready for Harry."  
"You're not the boss of us!" George said, but the twins got up and headed up the stairs.  
"Now what?" asked Ginny.  
"Now we wait. There's nothing else we can do until he gets here, and then we'll have to explain everything." Hermione sighed and rested her forehead in the palm of her hand. "I wish I had access to a library here so I could research similar cases and see how they were handled in the past. Though I don't know if it will help."  
"Why not?" asked Ginny.  
"Everything I prepared for Buckbeak's trial should have got him off two years ago, but the ministry had already made up its mind and Lucius Malfoy blackmailed or bribed the entire judicial panel. Our government is so corrupt, and it's only going to get worse as He-Who-Must-Not-Be-Named gets stronger and gains followers.”  
"Merlin," whispered Ginny. "I keep wanting to forget how bad this is. That we can just go back to school and the rest of the wixing* world will sort itself out while we study and try to make things better at Hogwarts, but it's not like that at all."  
Hermione sat in silence. She had nothing comforting to say to her friend. War was coming and there was nothing they could do to stop it.  
"People are going to die."  
Hermione nodded.  
"People I love."  
Hermione nodded again.  
"And there isn't anything we can do to stop it, because if we don't fight, more people will die and people that I love will die anyway. There is no choice other than to fight."  
"We've always known that. Ever since we started S.P.E.W. We have to fight no matter the consequences, because if we don't, the world will only get worse.”  
Ginny nodded and reached out to Hermione who held her in a tight embrace. "We can do this, Ginny. We have to.“

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> "Wix" is a gender-neutral term for a person who can do magic, equivalent to witch or wizard.  
> "The wixing world" is used to replace the wizarding world, and etc.


	2. Homecoming

"Harry! Ron, he's here, Harry's here! We didn't hear you arrive! Oh, how _are_ you? Are you alright? I'm so sorry - I know our letters were useless, but we couldn't tell you anything, Dumbledore made us swear we wouldn't, oh we've got so much to tell you, and you've got things to tell us - the Dementors! Look, they can't expel you, they can't. There's a provision in the Decree for the Reasonable Restriction of Underage Sorcery for the use of magic in life threatening situations. I can't find out any more than that with the books we have here, but -" 

"Let him breathe, Hermione," said Ron, grinning. She let go and beamed at him. Hedwig swooped down and landed on his shoulder. 

"Hedwig!" Harry said, reaching up to stoke her feathers lovingly. 

"She's been in a right state," said Ron. "Pecked us half to death when she brought your last letters, look at this - " Ron held out his finger and pointed at the large gash on his index finger. It was only half-healed and Hedwig had wounded him deeply. Harry looked down at the floor, "Sorry, I wanted answers, you know. I didn't think it through." 

"We really wanted to tell you. We really did. Hermione kept saying you'd go off and do something mad if you were left on your own without any news, but Dumbledore -" 

"Made you swear not to tell me. You've said." Hermione watched a steal wall of anger slide behind Harry's eyes. She held her breath. He was going to start yelling soon. After a long moment of uncomfortable silence she said, "Dumbledore seemed to think it was all for the best." She rubbed her thumb across one of the healing scars on her hands, nervously. 

"He thought you would be safest with the Dursleys," Ron said. 

"Did either of you get attacked by Dementors this summer? No? Didn't think so." 

"There have been people from the Order tailing you all the time -" said Ron.

"You wouldn't have believed how angry he was when you found out," Hermione said. Awe filled her voice. She'd never seen anyone so totally livid before. It had gone right down to the core of the Headmaster and blazed out through his eyes as brutal as one of the Unforgivable curses. "I dunno what he's going to do to Mundungus. He's the one who was supposed to be watching you, but he left his shift early." "I'm glad he did. If he hadn't I would have been stuck at Privet Drive all summer." 

"Aren't you worried about the hearing?" Hermione asked, quietly. Harry was reminding her of some of the children who came into her father's office. If you spoke to them with soft voices when you told them about scary dentist things and they were about to freak out, it would help calm them down a little. 

"No," Harry said, with emphasis and turned away. "Why doesn't he want me to know anything?" 

Hermione glanced at Ron. This wasn't going as badly as they had expected, but it wasn't far off of their guess. Harry turned back and caught them looking at each other and his face went a shade of darker red. 

"We told him we wanted to tell you, but he doesn't want you to know anything," said Ron. 

"Maybe he thinks I can't be trusted," Harry said. 

"No, no, that's not - " said Hermione. 

"How come you two have got to spend your holidays here, being part of everything and knowing what's going on?" 

"We haven't been!" said Ron. "Mum's not been letting us into the meetings. She says we're too young." 

"SO YOU HAVEN'T BEEN IN THE MEETINGS, BIG DEAL! YOU'VE STILL BEEN HERE, HAVEN'T YOU? YOU'VE STILL BEEN TOGETHER! ME, I'VE BEEN STUCK AT THE DURSLEYS' FOR A MONTH!" Hedwig took off of Harry's shoulder and flew a safe distance away to perch on the dresser. Pigwidgeon, Ron's owl, shrieked and squeaked as he fluttered around their heads in panic at the noise. 

Hermione almost cast a silencing charm, but remembered just before she did that she wasn't at Hogwarts. Just because she was surrounded by magical people did not mean she could do magic. 

"AND I'VE HANDLED MORE THAN YOU TWO'VE EVER MANAGED AND DUMBLEDORE KNOWS IT - WHO SAVED THE PHILOSOPHER'S STONE? WHO GOT RID OF RIDDLE? WHO SAVED BOTH YOUR SKINS FROM THE DEMENTORS? WHO HAD TO GET PAST DRAGONS AND SPHINXES AND EVERY OTHER FOUL THING LAST YEAR? WHO SAW HIM COME BACK? WHO HAD TO ESCAPE FROM HIM? ME!"

Ron stood staring at Harry, dumfounded, his mouth hanging half-open. Hermione looked down at the ground, not making eye contact and patiently waiting out the tirade. "BUT WHY SHOULD I KNOW WHAT'S GOING ON? WHY SHOULD ANYONE BOTHER TO TELL ME WHAT'S HAPPENING? YOU CAN'T HAVE WANTED TO TELL ME THAT MUCH, HUH? OTHERWISE YOU WOULD HAVE SENT ME A BLOODY OWL BUT SINCE DUMBLEDORE MADE YOU SWEAR." 

"Well, he did - " 

"I'VE BEEN NICKING PAPERS OUT OF BINS FOR THE LAST FOUR WEEKS TO TRY AND FIND OUT WHAT IN GOD'S NAME HAS BEEN GOING ON!" 

"We wanted to -" 

"I SUPPOSE YOU'VE BEEN HAVING A REAL LAUGH, HAVEN'T YOU, ALL HOLED UP IN HERE TOGETHER." 

"No, honest," Ron tried to say. 

"We're really sorry!" Hermione burst in. "I would be furious if it was me!" Harry glared at her for a moment and then started pacing around the room. Hermione and Ron watched him in uneasy silence. 

"What is this place?" Harry asked. 

"It's Headquarters," Ron said immediately. 

"For the Order of the Phoenix," Hermione added. 

"And is anyone going to tell me what that is?" 

"It's an army, or a militia, really, totally secret. Dumbledore founded it during the first war against You-Know-Who. Mostly it's people who fought against him last time that are in it." 

"And?" asked Harry, intensifying his glare. 

"And what?" asked Ron. 

"Voldemort! What's happening? Where is he? What's he doing and what are we doing to stop him?" 

"We don't know. They haven't been letting us in on the meetings," said Ron. 

"But we do have the general picture," Hermione cut in hurriedly. "Some of them are on recruitment, and they are constantly guarding something," 

"That could've been me, couldn't it?" said Harry. 

"Oh yeah," said Ron, and you could see the lightbulb switching on in his brain. 

"So what have you been doing, then?" 

"Decontaminating the house. This place hasn't been looked after except by an elderly house elf. There's all sorts of Dark creatures and magic locked away places." 

Two loud cracks made Hermione and Harry jump as Fred and George appeared out of thin air and stood grinning in the middle of the room. "Please stop doing that," said Hermione, exasperated. They ignored her. 

"Hello Harry. We thought we heard you come in," said George. 

"It's a good thing you let your anger out like that. Think of what would happen if you left it to fester. Nasty stuff that," said Fred. 

"I'm glad to see you passed your Apparation tests," Harry said, grumpy. 

"With distinction. Anyways, Harry, can you keep it down? We're trying to listen in on the meeting." 

"It won't work," said Ginny, leaning up against the doorway. "Hi, Harry." 

"Hello." 

"Why won't it work?" asked Fred, looking like someone had taken away his favourite sweets. 

"Mum's put an Imperturbable charm on the door. There's no chance the Extendable Ears are going to make it past." 

"How do you know?" asked George. 

Ginny rolled her eyes and walked into the room. "It's good to see you Harry. I'm glad you're finally here." 

"Thanks Ginny," Harry sat down on the bed, still scowling. His face was softer when he looked back up, "Ok, tell me everything." 

They told him about Bill and Charlie's rolls in the Order, that Percy had picked the Ministry over his family, and that the Prophet had been slipping in side remarks about his mental state throughout the paper. 

"Mum's coming," said Fred, tugging hard on the Extendable Ear, and the twins disapparated with another crack. Mrs. Weasley popped her head around the door. 

"The meeting's over and dinner's ready. Ginny, wash your hands, they're filthy. And don't forget to keep your voices down in the hall." Ginny sighed and went to wash. 

Hermione and Harry looked at Harry's slumped figure on the bed. Hermione glanced at Ron, worried. "We knew you'd be angry, Harry, we don't blame you. You've just got to understand that we really did try and convince Dumbledore." 

"Yeah, I know," he said shortly. There was another too-long pause. "Who's the house elf who lives here?" he asked with a weak smile. 

"Kreacher. He's a nutter," said Ron. 

"He's not a nutter!" 

"His life's dream is to get his head mounted on a plaque like his dear old mum. That's not normal." 

"If he's a little strange, it's not his fault."

Ron rolled his eyes. "Hermione still hasn't given up on SPEW." 

"It's not SPEW. It's the Society for the Protection of Elvish Welfare, and I'm not giving up until house elves have the same rights as wixes. Dumbledore said everyone should be nicer to Kreacher too." 

"Oh Merlin, Solomon, and Hecate, can you stop it with the wix thing? You can just say wizards." 

"No," said Hermione, flatly. She turned back to Harry, and tilted her head, confused. He was smiling at them. "What?" she asked. 

"I missed you two," he said. 

"You missed our bickering?" she asked, unbelieving. 

"Yeah. Let's go eat." The trio tiptoed through the hall. Hermione waved at Tonks as they passed her sealing the main door with spells. She smiled and waved back, then tripped over the umbrella stand. A ferocious wailing came from the portrait on the wall behind them as the curtains sprang open, revealing a drooling old woman with yellowed skin and eyes rolled back in her head. Mrs. Weasley came flying out of the kitchen and saw Tonks on the floor. 

"Oh Tonks, again?" She ran over to the portrait and tried to tug the curtains closed. The old woman screamed even louder and then started shouting profanities. Hermione flinched and covered her ears. 

"Filth! Scum! By-products of dirt and vileness! Half-breeds, mutants, freaks, begone from this place! How dare you befoul the house of my fathers -" A black-haired man barrelled down the hall and took over wrestling with one of the curtains. "Yoooou!" the woman's eyes popped at the sight of him. "Blood traitor, abomination, shame on my flesh!" 

"Shut UP!" yelled the man. With a huge effort he and Mrs. Weasley managed to heave the curtains closed and her screeching died away. 

The man turned. "Hello Harry," said Sirius. "I see you've met my mother."


	3. Chapter 3

"Hermione, what did they say?" whispered Ginny.

It was dark in their bedroom and Hermione fumbled to light the oil lamp. Ginny was tucked under her covers and staring at Hermione beseechingly.

"Everything we already knew from eavesdropping or guessing about what You-Know-Who is doing and the way the Ministry is handling things. The only new thing was that You-Know-Who is looking for some kind of weapon."

"What do you think it could be?"

"I don't know. Something to make himself more powerful, or something he could use to threaten most of England to giving in to him." 

Ginny shivered. "What if he gets it?" 

"Then we'll need something to counter-act it." 

"Come hold me?" Ginny asked.

Hermione nodded and turned off the light, making her way by feel over to Ginny's bed. She crawled over her friend and spooned her from behind.

"Under the covers?" Ginny asked, and Hermione slipped under the blankets.

She put one arm over Ginny and tucked her legs into Ginny's knees and pulled her friend close to her. Ginny started crying.

"I don't want my family to die. Everyone is in the Order who's old enough and Fred and George will join as soon as they can, and Ron and you are always there with Harry, and You-Know-Who wants to kill him. My mom is so scared. She's so scared all the time that something's going to happen to us. What if my mom dies? What would I do without my mom?"

Hermione held her tightly as Ginny sobbed. She didn't know what to say. The possibilities of people she loved dying were too real. She was terrified, and also guiltily relieved that her family wasn't magical. Her parents and aunts and cousins were uninvolved and relatively safer. Unless You-Know-Who decided to use them to get to her to get to Harry, they would remain untouched. She needed to work out some way to protect them.

Hermione heard footsteps in the hallway pause before the door. Mrs. Weasley slowly turned the handle and opened the door. Her face was worried - she must have heard Ginny crying - but her face softened into a small smile when she saw Hermione comforting her daughter. Ginny's eyes were closed and she was crying too hard to notice her mother.

Hermione and Mrs. Weasley made eye contact. The older woman nodded slightly and soundlessly closed the door.

Hermione felt as though she had been awarded top marks on a paper, that Mrs. Weasley trusted her enough to take care of her daughter when she was normally so protective.

Ginny was crying less hard now, and Hermione reached up to brush some of the tears off her cheeks.

Ginny turned and buried her head in Hermione's sturnum. It was uncomfortable and awkward, but Hermione didn't let go.

She breathed deeply and evenly and Ginny's breathing gradually slowed to match hers.

When she was calm, Ginny looked up at Hermione. "Thank you," she said.

"You're silly," said Hermione, bumping her nose into her friend's. "I'll always be here if you need me."

"Don't die, okay?"

"Okay."

"Will you stay here with me tonight?"

"That sounds nice."

Ginny rolled back over and Hermione spooned her again.

Hermione listened as Ginny's breath became steady and even. Then, she closed her eyes and swiftly fell into sleep.

  
  
The next morning they found themselves armed with spray bottles against the Doxie infestation in the upstairs sitting room. Hermione covered her lower face with a bandana and aimed the bottle at the curtains. 

"Ready? Spray," said Mrs. Weasley.

Hermione, Harry, Ron, Ginny, Sirius, and Mrs. Weasley sprayed continuously at the curtains until a swarm of Doxies emerged. Hermione aimed directly at the faces of the hairy, little fairies. She didn't want to be pricked by their poisonous teeth. She felt a twinge of remorse as the first few dropped to the ground, paralyzed. It didn't take more than a few to fall before she was used to it. 

"Fred. George. Stop fooling around and just spray them," Mrs. Weasley's voice came from across the room.

Fred was pinning down a Doxie by it's four arms and it was struggling madly.

"Right. Sorry mum," said George and sprayed the Doxie.

Mrs. Weasley sighed and returned to the curtains. Hermione watched Fred slip the Doxie into his pocket and narrowed her eyes. They were definitely up to something.

The swarming slowed as the buckets filled. It was nearly lunch time when they were finally able to sink down into the chesterfields.

The curtains hung limp and damp behind them and Mrs. Weasley sprung up with a shriek as she sat down on the armchair where Sirius had left the bag of dead rats for Buckbeak.

Fred and George had their heads together off in a corner, Sirius and Harry had wandered to look at the Black family tapestry, and Mrs. Weasley was resting her head in one hand. Ron and Ginny were playfully pushing each other back and forth. Hermione allowed herself to relax.

Downstairs, the doorbell rang. "I keep telling them not to ring the doorbell," Sirius said. Moments later Mrs. Black started wailing and the other portraits throughout the house shouted at her to shut up.

Mrs. Weasley sprung from the chair. "Everybody stay here," she ordered, closing the door behind herself and Sirius.

Everybody ran to the window. Mundungus was standing on the stoop beside a pile of dodgey looking cauldrons.

"WE ARE NOT BECOMING A STOREHOUSE FOR SMUGGLED GOODS!" shouted Mrs. Weasley.

"Stupid," said Ron. "Mum's been waiting to have a go at him ever since he left when he was supposed to be tailing you. He's gone and given her the perfect excuse."

"The idiot is letting her get into her stride. You've got to cut her off at the start otherwise she'll go on for hours," said George

"That's not a very nice way to talk about your mother," said Hermione.

"Whatever, it's true," said Ron.

Mrs. Weasley came back into the room breathing heavily and still a little red in the face. She levitated a platter of sandwiches onto the coffee table, "Here's lunch. Stay here until someone comes to get you."

She was back through the door before anyone had time to say thank you.

Fred went and opened the door a crack, "I wonder what they're talking about. Do you think it's worth getting the Extendable Ears?"

Kreacher slipped under Fred's arm through the crack in the door. "Nasty little blood traitors, all of them," he muttered. "Oh if my mistress could see this house now, how she would suffer. Criminals and traitors and that awful son that broke her heart when he ran away. Can't have them soiling the house with their filth. Horrid little things. Touching everything."

"Hello Kreacher," said George, loudly.

Kreacher jumped and bowed low. "Kreacher did not see the young master standing there," he said. Then added under his breath, "So unnatural. Twins. And there's the other one." He stood their shaking his head. "And who's this new boy? Don't know what he's doing here, bold as brass. Just as filthy as the rest of them."

Harry looked as if he was equally likely to burst into laughter or into a fit of rage. Hermione wasn't sure.

"This is Harry," she said, tentatively. "Harry Potter."

Kreacher's eyes widened. "The Mudblood is talking to Kreacher as though she is his friend. What would Mistress say if she saw."

"Don't call her that!" Ron and Ginny shouted.

"It's okay," said Hermione. "He doesn't know what he's saying. He hasn't had a chance to learn that it's wrong."

"He knows exactly what he's saying and he knows it's offensive," said Sirius, entering the room. His voice was harsh, "What are you doing here, Kreacher?"

Kreacher bowed so low his long nose touched the dusty carpet. "Kreacher was cleaning."

"A likely story," Sirius said and snorted.

"Kreacher takes care of the Ancient and Most Noble House of Black."

"It gets blacker every day. You haven't done a spot of cleaning in 10 years. What were you in here for?"

"Master did always like his little joke." Kreacher said, and then mumbled "Kreacher couldn't let them take the tapestry. It's been in the family ten generations. Mistress would never forgive Kreacher if he let them destroy it."

"I thought that might be it," said Sirius without sympathy. "Now get out. Go make yourself useful elsewhere." It seemed as though Kreacher couldn't bear to disobey a direct order from Sirius, no matter how much he despised his master or the order. With a crack he disappeared. 

"Sirius, he's not right in the head," said Hermione. "I don't think he realizes we can hear him."

"He's been alone too long," said Sirius, "taking mad orders from my mother's portrait and talking to himself, but he was always foul."

"You could set him free," said Hermione.

"We can't. He knows too much about the Order. Anyways, the shock would kill him. You suggest to him that he leaves this house, see how he takes it."

Sirius walked over to the tapestry and Harry followed him. Everyone else fell on the sandwiches.

"I keep telling you that not all house elves want to be free," said Ginny.

"I know," said Hermione. "And I've started actually listening to what it is they want, but I still don't understand. It's slavery! Britain abolished slavery how many years ago? 1830-something? Too long for slavery to still be happening here."

"You don't have to understand it," Ginny said, gentle as she always was with Hermione when they talked about this. "Maybe in the future they won't want to be servants for wixes anymore, but in the meantime all we can do it help them get what they do want."

Hermione sighed, "I know. You're right as always."

"Kreacher wants to preserve the things in this house. We could save some things that aren't riddled with Dark magic for him."

"That's a really good idea. Let's do that. But nothing dangerous."

"Nothing dangerous," Ginny agreed. "Do you want to do some planning for S.P.E.W. and Connection now?"

"It feels weird to do anything without Luna."

"Yeah, but I've felt so useless all summer. My brothers are horrible and I just want to be able to do something that will make a difference."

"We could brainstorm some activities. Or we could plan the things we've done before and want to continue."

"Let's re-plan things we've done before. I like having Luna's brain around when we do brainstorming. Ey always thinks in such different ways."

"It's Luna's specialty to be two steps ahead and a mile over to the left of everyone else. I love eir brain," said Hermione.

Mrs. Weasley came back in to the room. "Let's get back to work," she said. She looked supremely satisfied.

Hermione wondered what had happened to Mundungus and the cauldrons. They were probably on their way away from the house, judging by how pleased Mrs. Weasley looked. She didn't feel sorry for Mundungus. He was rude, encouraged the worst in Fred and George, and she hadn't forgiven him either for abandoning Harry and putting him in harm's way.

The glass cabinets were filled with silver instruments with pinchers that fought back when you tried to put them in the bin, snuffboxes filled with mouldy powders, and curiosities that didn't house dark magic but were decorated with nasty pictures under a layer of grime. Hermione slipped a locket no one could open into her pocket. She didn't sense any magic on it, though it would be impossible to tell for sure since she couldn't use spells. It was a large gaudy yellow stone in silver casing with a long silver chain, and she thought Kreacher would be glad to have it.

Harry opened a music box on the other side of the room. The music tugged at her, drawing her towards the box to stare at the little whirling Pegasus and her reflection in the small mirror. She couldn't take her eyes off of it. The music reminded her of something, like the lullaby her father used to sing to her every night before bed when she was little. She smiled. She was light and floaty to the point where the ceiling of the room looked inviting, and increasingly calm. The calmness sat on her, weighed down her limbs and her eyes. She was drousy and her eyelids drooped. The lightness was replaced with the heaviness of the calm and everything took so much effort. She didn't want to turn her head to look at the others, or lift her hand to scratch an itch on her nose. Even breathing seemed like a chore. Ginny darted forward and snapped the music box shut. Hermione came back to herself with a start. She shook her head to clear it. Beside her Ron giggled nervously, and Ginny tossed the music box into the bin with the other dark instruments to be destroyed. Silently everyone shuffled back to the task of emptying the shelves with more presence of mind. When Ginny wasn't paying attention, Hermione snuck glances at her. 

After her first year at Hogwarts and her trials with Riddle's diary and the Chamber of Secrets, Ginny had lost most of her naiveté. Hermione hadn't known her before, but she could still see the change in her friend between the her mannerisms in photos taken pre-Hogwarts and the living version of Ginny now. She was harder, less gullible. She looked at the world with a highly critical eye and reacted quickly and without hesitation to any threat of danger. She was powerful. Resolute. Ginny attacked every problem relentlessly until it crumbled before her. When she learned new jinxes and hexes she was stone-faced and steel-hearted - she always approached offensive magic that way. Hermione had noticed it immediately when she started tutoring her.

Of all of the people that had come to her for help with school, Ginny was still her favourite to teach. They had spent the summer after Ginny's first year pouring over books on offensive magic, learning the wand motions and practicing the word pronunciation separately. Once they were back at the school they had sealed off empty classrooms and practiced relentlessly. If Ginny had needed help with the research, she certainly didn't need help with the actual casting. Her will and determination was so strong that every jinx crackled and every hex met its mark. Hermione had learned from her. It would take a very brave wix to take on Ginny. Even adults would be hard pressed to hold their own, especially if they were idiotic enough to make Ginny furious. Hermione's heart felt uncomfortably too large, it was forced up against her ribs and her stomach dropped, hot and tight. She was so proud. 

Ginny felt Hermione's eyes on her and turned around, smiling. Hermione smiled back. She felt very lucky to have Ginny, Harry, Ron, and Luna as her friends.


	4. Redemption

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Short and sweet!  
> This chapter takes place after Harry has returned from his trial over the use of underage magic. It corresponds with the beginning of Chapter 9 in OotP.
> 
> If I haven't mentioned this recently, these characters, the story, and a little of the dialogue (with edits) are the property of JK Rowling. But y'all knew that already.
> 
> Thank you very much to my lovely betas, Tove and kiwi_levine for their swift and helpful corrections.
> 
> ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~

"I knew it!" yelled Ron, jumping up from his chair. "You can get away with anything."

"Well, they were bound to clear you," said Hermione. The anxiety leaving her body in one great rush that made her muscles give out, and she leaned on the back of a chair to hold herself upright. She hoped no one noticed. "There was no case against you, none at all."

"Everybody seems really relieved for people who were sure I would get off," said Harry, smiling.

Fred, George, and Ginny were holding hands and skipping in a circle around the kitchen chanting "He got off, he got off, he got off!"

"Settle down!" shouted Mr. Weasley. "Sirius, Molly, I've got to tell you some things that are relevant to the Order before I head back out to deal with a case of exploding toilets."

"That's happened again?" Mrs. Weasley asked as the adults walked out of the kitchen. "It seems like there's been more malicious attacks against Muggles lately."

"I agree. It's quite worrisome," said Mr. Weasley, closing the door behind them.

"He got off, he got off!" Fred, George, and Ginny continued to chant.

Hermione, Harry, and Ron sat down at the table to eat. Hermione beamed. This was the best she'd felt in weeks, since they’d received the heart-stopping news that Harry might get expelled. The constant worry of returning to Hogwarts without one of her best friends, and what would happen to Harry if he couldn't continue to learn magic to fight against He-Who-Must-Not-Be-Named, was finally over. She helped herself to a large plate of lunch and dug in.

"There wasn't anything they could do once Dumbledore showed up!" said Ron.

"He really swung it for me," said Harry, suddenly sober again. "I just wished he had talked to me, or even looked at me."

"He's really busy," said Hermione. "Maybe he'll come join us for dinner tonight to celebrate."

Dumbledore didn't join them for dinner, but Kingsley Shacklebolt,Tonks, and a few other members of the Order were at the table that night. 

Over the next few days they cleared out most of the dark objects and grime from the house. Hermione managed to save a few photos from being smashed by Sirius and other harmless trinkets. She and Ginny went to find Kreacher with their parcel.

"He sleeps in the linen closet," said Hermione. "The one that's under the stairs by the front door."

They walked quietly up to the door and knocked, looking around nervously. Sirius and Ron would be angry, and no one else would understand if they found out. There was no answer.

Ginny looked at Hermione, aghast. "I just realized, we can't actually give these things to him. We're not his owners, but he still won't accept a gift from us. It would be insulting for us to try and give it to him."

Hermione looked down and the package in her hands. "What should we do? We can't leave it in the hallway, someone will find it and throw it out."

"We could leave it in his room."

"We could, but it seems like such an invasion of his privacy."

"It's a gift?" said Ginny.

"If we wanted, we could justify joining the Death Eaters to save Harry. We can justify anything." 

"Let's hide it somewhere he can find it!"

"Yes! One of the drawers in the dining room chest would be perfect," said Hermione. They tiptoed into the dining room and opened the parcel. They spread out the items in one of the drawers that Kreacher could easily reach and stepped back to admire their handiwork.

"Let's hide somewhere and watch him find it!" said Hermione, and they ducked behind the curtains.

They didn't have to wait more than ten minutes before Kreacher came wandering into the room muttering. "Mistress, look at what they've done to your house. It's all gone. Gone. Everything." His ears drooped and he dragged his feet. He climbed up onto the dining table and dangled his feet over the edge, pressing his eyes into the palms of his hands. "Kreacher is so sorry Mistress, Master Regulus. Kreacher has failed you. Kreacher has failed."

Hermione and Ginny looked at each other, sad they'd helped destroy his memories of the house, even if it had needed to be done.

Kreacher jumped off the table and sniffed, wiping the tears from his eyes. "Kreacher is sorry. So so sorry." He wandered around the room, opening drawers and touching the places where objects had once been until he got to the drawer where they had placed their gift.

He froze. Staring down at the contents in the drawer. Slowly, as if hardly believing it was real, he reached down and picked up the locket. "It's still here. Kreacher has found it! Kreacher will keep it safe. No one will know. No one will find it.” He picked up the photograph of his mistress and cradled it to his chest for a moment before scooping up the rest of the items and rushing away to his room.


	5. Sparklets

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> More of Chapter 9 from OotP. Prefect badges and a little bit of sparkle.

The start of term steadily approached, and Hermione was anxious.

They hadn't been allowed to leave Grimmauld Place to go get their school books - Mr. and Mrs. Weasley had gone to pick up sets for everyone - as a result Hermione only had the bare minimum of books required for school. Normally she would have spent half a day in Flourish and Blotts, picking up supplementary readings for her classes and potentially buying up a novel or two.

She also hadn't had as much time to study as she wanted. If she'd been at home her parents would have let her study uninterrupted for days. They knew it was important for her to feel well prepared or her nervousness about school would skyrocket. It was also an important time for her to transition mentally between the Muggle world she was raised in and the wixing world she had joined, but spending this much time with the Weasleys had helped.

Hermione spent most of each day cleaning, but there was a constant war between the half of her brain that needed to study and the other half that wanted to help out and do her part. The tug-of-war made her nauseous. She studied in every spare moment she had, much to the annoyance of her friends. They wanted to use their non-cleaning time for a last bit of fun and games before being sent back to school.

It was moments like these that made Hermione question the hat’s decision to sort her into Gryffindor. She knew her friends in Ravenclaw were either studying or wishing they were, and they would understand her need.

She made do.

She, Harry, and Ron were scrubbing the last of the mold out of a cupboard, when Harry turned abruptly and broke their comfortable silence, "I don't think Sirius is happy that I'm going back to school."

"Don't you go feeling guilty!" said Hermione. "There isn't any place better for you than Hogwarts. I think he's being selfish, personally."

"He's not selfish!" Harry said, his temper flashing.

"No," said Hermione, flustered. "It's just, I think your mum's right, Ron, and sometimes he gets confused about whether you're you or your dad."

"Do you think he's off in the head?" said Harry, his voice rising.

"No! I just think he's been alone a long time and there was a part of him that wanted you to be outcasts together. I think he really wanted you to stay here and live with him."

"He's got a funny way of showing it," muttered Ron.

"I don't think so," said Harry. "When I asked him before my hearing if I could stay here if I got expelled, he wouldn't give me a straight answer."

"He probably just didn't want to get his hopes up even more," said Hermione, sagely.

"Come off it!" said Ron and Harry together.

"Say whatever you like," said Hermione. "It makes sense with the way he's been acting."

Mrs. Weasley poked her head into the cupboard, "Are you all still working on that?" she asked.

"I thought you were coming to give us a break!" said Ron, throwing down his rag. "I feel like a ruddy house elf."

"You wanted to help the Order. You can help by making our headquarters suitable to live in," said Mrs. Weasley, disappearing again.

"Now that you know what it feels like, maybe you'll be more interested in helping with S.P.E.W." said Hermione, looking at both boys hopefully.

"I'm not helping you with bloody SPEW," said Ron, flopping down on the floor in disgust.

"Actually, that's not a bad idea," said Hermione, ignoring him. "We could do a sponsored clean of all the common rooms. We could get people to see what sorts of conditions house elves are forced to work under and raise money for the cause. I have to tell Ginny and Luna,” and she wandered off to send Luna an owl.

 

On the very last day of the holidays two school owls soared up to the house, which surprised Hermione, as everyone had already received their book lists. One of the owls swept into her bedroom and nibbled playfully at her fingers until she fed it a treat. She opened her letter and shrieked with joy as a prefect badge fell out. She scooped it up and cradled it in her left hand as she read the letter. 

 

> _ Miss Hermione Granger, _
> 
> _ We are pleased to inform you that you have been chosen as the fifth year Gryffindor house prefect at Hogwarts School of Witchcraft and Wizardry. _
> 
> _ Please report to the prefect car on the Hogwarts Express to receive your initial orientation. _
> 
> _ Sincerely, _
> 
> _ Minerva McGonagall, Head of Gryffindor House _
> 
> _ Professor Albus Percival Wulfric Brian Dumbledore, Order of Merlin (first class), Headmaster of Hogwarts School of Witchcraft and Wizardry, Supreme Mugwump of the International Confederation of Wizards, and Chief Warlock of the Wizengamot. _

 

Hermione jumped off the bed with such exuberance she knocked Crookshanks’ pillow onto the floor.

He squawked at her. "Sorry!" she called over her shoulder as she bounded down the stairs. She knew the other owl was for Harry. It had to be.

She burst into the boys’ room and saw Fred, George, and Ron clustered around Harry who was holding the prefect badge, looking shocked.

"Oh, Harry! You got one too! I knew you would!"

"It's not mine," he said, thrusting the badge back into Ron's hands.

"Ron? Oh, I ... Really?"

"It's my name on the letter," Ron said, hotly.

"Of course, I mean, well done. That's wonderful, Ron." There was a beat of awkward silence before Mrs. Weasley bustled in, oblivious to the climate in the room.

"I'm going to make a last run out to Diagon Alley today," she said, hustling across the room to straighten Ron's bed without focusing on anyone.

"How about you get Ronnie new robes to match his new badge," wheedled Fred.

"Badge? What badge?" Mrs. Weasley said, plumping a pillow.

Mutely, Ron handed her his prefect badge. She stared at it without comprehension and then shrieked just like Hermione and flung her arms around Ron's neck peppering him with kisses.

"Oh, Ron! Prefect! My Ronnie! This is so wonderful. That makes everyone in the family."

"What are we? Next door neighbours?" said George.

Hermione mumbled, "What about Ginny?"

"Maybe you'll be Head Boy like Bill and Percy. This is such good news, and come when we're so worried. Your father will be so proud."

Ron was as red as his hair and squirming away from his mother. "Thanks mum, you can let go now."

Mrs. Weasley held him out from her, "What would you like?"

"Like?" Ron said.

"Your brothers all got something. We'll get you something new to celebrate."

"Could I," Ron hesitated. "Mum, could I have a new broom?"

Mrs. Weasley's face fell. Brooms, Hermione knew, were expensive. But then she crushed Ron against her, "Of course, we'll see what we can find you."

She bustled out of the room humming, with a much happier demeanor than how she'd arrived.

"May we kiss you too, Ronnie?" George asked.

"Or we could curtsy," said Fred.

"Stop it," said Ron.

"Or what? You'll put us in detention?" said Fred.

"He could if you two aren't careful!" said Hermione. She hated the way they always ragged on Ron. He tried so hard to stand out among all his brothers, and the twins squished him whenever they got the chance.

"Oooh, we're going to have to watch ourselves with these two on patrol," said George.

"Looks like our rule-breaking days are over," said Fred, shaking his head with mock sadness.

With a loud crack they disapperated, and Hermione could hear them howling with laughter upstairs.

"Ignore them. They're just jealous," she said.

"I don't think they are," said Ron. "But hey, a new broom. Neither of them have gotten anything as nice as all that. There's a new Cleansweep out. She'd never be able to get anything as nice as a Firebolt, but a Cleansweep ... yeah, Do you think she could get that? I'm going to go tell her that's what I want." He jumped off the bed and was out the door.

Hermione looked at Harry, beaming. He turned away quickly without meeting her eye and then turned back grinning painfully wide.

"Good for you," he said, cheerfully. "Prefect. Brilliant."

"Thanks -" she said. "Um, Harry? Do you think I could - I could borrow Hedwig to write a letter to my mum and dad? They'll be so happy. Prefect, it's - it's a big deal. For them. You know?"

"Yeah, yeah. Sure. Go ahead," he said and turned his back to her as she fiddled with Hedwig's cage and called her down. He didn't turn around as she left.

She thought it was probably best to leave him be for the moment. He would get over it and be happy for Ron. He just needed time.

 

"Hermione, come help me with this," Ginny said.

Parchment, brushes, ink, and sparkles were spread out over the living room floor.

"What are you doing?" Hermione asked.

"Mum's throwing you and Ron a party, and she asked me to make a banner."

"I haven't done crafts with magical supplies before," said Hermione, sitting down beside Ginny.

"What do Muggles use?"

"Paper, and markers, and pens, and glitter glue, and stickers," said Hermione.  "Or computers."

"We have glitter!" said Ginny.

"So I see," said Hermione, bemused. Ginny had a patch of glitter in her hair and another on her cheek. It was also all over the floor.

She brushed a bit off of Ginny's cheek, but most of it stayed stuck.

"If it's on me, it's going to stay on me. It takes magic to get it off."

"Who came up with the idea to make glitter permanently sticky? This stuff gets everywhere."

"It's not hard to get off with a simple cleaning spell. It's only permanent because we're not allowed to do magic."

"I hate that rule. It makes it so hard to study outside of school."

"You're such a nerd," teased Ginny.

"That's what makes me awesome," said Hermione.

"Too true. Pass me the gold ink?"

They worked silently for a little while before Ginny said, "I'm thinking about coming out to my family."

"Which part?" asked Hermione.

"The bisexual part. I'm not ready to talk to them about gender, and I like she/her/hers so it's not that big of  a deal."

"How do you think they'll take it?"

"Pretty well. I mean, everyone knows Charlie is gay even if we don't talk about it. My parents and brothers are totally okay with him. Mostly I think my mum's just sad he hasn't told her yet because she wants to tease him about boyfriends."

"Your family loves you. You won't have to worry about that. They don't hold by any of those stupid pureblood rules."

"I know. I'll tell them later though. Tonight is your night."

Hermione ducked her head and smiled. She was proud of herself. Part of her wished that the owl had arrived when she was still at home so she could have seen her parents' faces. They would be just as pleased as she was, but it was nice to get to celebrate with her magical family.

"Do you want to be a prefect?" Hermione asked.

"I don't know. I'm not as big on following the rules as you are -"

"Neither is Ron," interrupted Hermione.

"- but it would be wicked to catch some Slytherins being slimy."

"You wouldn't be allowed to hex them, though," Hermione pointed out.

Ginny sighed dramatically, "True, but I might do it anyways."

Hermione laughed and they finished creating the banner. They were both covered in glitter by the time they were done.

Ginny tried to brush some off Hermione's forehead without success. Hermione stifled her intake of breath when her friend's fingers touched her skin and fireworks shot down into her belly.

Ginny cocked a grin at her, a dimple appearing underneath her lips on the right side.

Hermione looked down at her fidgeting fingers. "Let's go find your mom and get this stuff off," she said, ignoring the teasing grin that split Ginny's face.

Ginny flirted with everyone just for practice, she reminded herself. A grin and lingering fingers didn't mean a thing.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Thank you again to kiwi_levine and Tove for the beta reading <3
> 
> My update schedule here on out is the 1st and 15th of the month. With the best betas and being a half dozen chapters ahead, this should be manageable with my school schedule.
> 
> Keep enjoying, and giving me your love and affection via comments! It's very inspirational ;)


	6. The Thrill of Responsibility

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> In which Hermione and Ron meet the other fifth year prefects, Malfoy is a jerk, and Luna joins the story.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Luna in this story is agender and uses ey/em/eirs pronouns. 
> 
> Here's an article about the how-to's of using neutral pronouns.  
> https://lifehacker.com/how-to-use-gender-neutral-pronouns-1821239054
> 
> And a little more information about how neutral pronouns came into existence in English.  
> https://genderneutralpronoun.wordpress.com/
> 
> If you don't feel like reading. Here's a you tube video of trans non-binary folks talking about their pronouns.  
> https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=9iKHjl5xAaA

The prefect cabin was large and open in its design and completely empty except for four couches in red, green, blue, and yellow surrounding a coffee table.

"This is where we're supposed to be, right?" Hermione asked Ron, nervously. She didn't want to be late for her first duty as a prefect. Ron shrugged, completely nonplussed, and Hermione sighed. She nudged him over to the red couch and eased herself down, back ramrod straight and tense. Hopefully some other prefects or a teacher would show up soon so she could know she was in the right place and relax.

Crookshanks leaped out of his carry case and onto her shoulder. Pigwidgeon shrieked with terror. Ron threw a blanket over her cage and glared at Hermione.

"You only stay in there because you want to," Hermione said to her cat, laughing. Crookshanks purred, nuzzling her head and then curled up in her lap. His purring calmed Hermione as she stroked him.

The car door slid open and Ron hissed at her under his breath, "Of course Malfoy's a prefect."

"The Mudblood and the blood traitor; see how low Hogwarts standards have sunk, Pansy. This is exactly what I was telling father about."

"Get lost, Malfoy," Ron said.

"Tut, tut. Now that's no way to speak to your fellow prefect."

"So you're the kind of person Slytherin thinks makes a good prefect?" Ron said, incredulously.

"Of course he is," said Pansy, looking up at Malfoy.

"Yes, of course he is," said Hermione, scathingly. "Pure of blood, fair of hair, and despicable of morals. Who else would be fit to be Slytherin prefect?"

Pansy stuttered, enraged and incapable of coming to Malfoy's defense.

"Did you hear something?" Malfoy asked her. "I thought I felt a slight breeze."

"Seriously? That's all you've got. God, Malfoy, you're such a child," Hermione said and turned her back on him.

She continued to ignore him, making pointed conversation with Ron about their upcoming classes and her plan to fit their prefect duties around studying. Ron, to his credit, played along though he would normally roll his eyes and groan. Seemingly, he didn't want to engage with Malfoy any more than she did.

The other pairs of prefects strolled in and Hermione was thrilled to see two of her friends from Ravenclaw were also prefects. Padma Patil and Anthony Goldstein crossed the room to greet her. She gave them both a suffocating hug and hurried into a conversation about their summer holidays. Anthony, a half-blood, had spent the summer working in a magical research lab, attempting to cross Muggle science with wixcraft. Padma was a member of S.P.E.W. and had spent her summer traveling around Britain and spending time with various marginalized groups. Hermione avoided directly answering questions about where she had spent the summer and filled them in on the research she had been doing chronicling British Muggle and wixing history in tandem to determine their interrelated effects.

It was fascinating research. She had spent most of the summer before arriving at Grimmauld Place buried in both magical and muggle textbooks. Noting where wixes and Muggles crossed paths, where their history and cultures had progressed in tandem, and where they had diverged. History wasn't her favorite subject, though she was just as competent in it as she was in everything else, but she thought it was worth her time and energy. She needed to understand how the wixing world never got around to fixing its problems.

Hannah Abbott and Ernie Macmillan from Hufflepuff entered the coach and the group settled onto their respective couches. The wood grains on the table swirled and spiraled to form Professor McGonagall's face. Her lips moved for a moment without sound. Then her voice came out of the wood out of sync with the movements of her lips. Hermione hid a smile. The disconnection between the image and the sound reminded her of badly-dubbed French movies that her mum loved to watch. "Congratulations on becoming prefects," said Professor McGonagall. "There are quite a few new responsibilities you have now. I expect you to pay close attention and to complete your duties with the diligence and honorability that earned you this position."

Ron snorted. "Like Malfoy is either of those things," he said under his breath to Hermione. She hushed him, but privately she agreed. He was only a prefect because he was Professor Snape's favourite.

She listened attentively to Professor McGonagall's instructions, but there were no surprises. She already knew what was expected of her. The meeting didn't last long, and Hermione hung back afterward to get a chance to the Hufflepuff prefects, whom she didn’t know well.

Ron tugged on her arm, tilting his head to indicate that he wanted to leave and go back to Harry. Hermione shook her head, and with a sigh he sat back down on the couch. It wasn't long before he discovered that Anthony was a fan of the Chudley Cannons, and they were deep in a discussion about Quidditch. Hermione was coaxing Hannah to join S.P.E.W.

"It's really important," Padma said. "We do lots of really cool research and use it to try and help people. We've created letter writing campaigns and have talked to the house elves what sorts of things they would like to make their lives better."

"I know it's important, but I'm already in a lot of other clubs," said Hannah.

"Wixes are so far behind the muggle world in terms of technology. Magic could do a lot to help science and science could do a lot to help us. It's important too," said Padma.

Hermione’s temperature rose. There wasn't anything more important than this. Stupid. How could you think that technology was more important than people?

Ron noticed the rage flash across her face and laid a hand on her clenched fist. "Let's go back to Harry now, eh?" He said, gently guiding her towards the door. "Nice to meet you all," he called over his shoulder as they left.

Hermione stalked in stony silence beside him down the corridor.

"You can't just go off on people like that," Ron said, rounding on her. "Sometimes people have different opinions than you and that's okay. You're not always right and not everyone has to think the same as you do."

"It's not opinion!" said Hermione, conscientious enough to keep her voice down. "These are actual people. Actual lives. It's wrong to say that some people don't deserve the same rights as wixes."

"I don't think that's what Hannah was saying. I think she just said that her priorities are in different places."

"It amounts to the same thing," said Hermione.

"No it doesn't," said Ron.

"Yes it does. You just don't get it," Hermione said.

They glared at each other.

"Explain it to me then," Ron snapped.

"I already have a million times. You weren't paying attention and I'm done trying."

Ron withered. Hermione felt a flash of guilt. She knew he was interested in her, and while she wasn’t attracted to him, he was important to her. He understood parts of Harry that she didn't and he was the most well-adjusted person in their trio. He helped her stay calm and feel stable.

"I'm sorry," she said. "I shouldn't have yelled at you. Thank you for helping me keep my friends."

Ron blinked, confused at the sudden shift in tone. He shrugged it off. "Well, you know. Let's find Harry." They walked the length of the train in silence until they found Harry’s compartment. To Hermione's delight, Ginny and Luna were there as well.

"I'm starving," said Ron, grabbing a chocolate frog and slumping down in the seat next to Harry.

"Hi Luna," Hermione said. Her friend was too absorbed in reading eir father's magazine to notice her arrival.

Luna looked up slowly from the upside-down Quibbler, eir eyes slowly coming to focus on Hermione. "Oh, hello," ey said in eir dreamy voice and deliberately put the magazine aside. Ey floated over to Hermione and wrapped her in a fierce hug.

Hermione held onto em tightly, burying her face into Luna's neck. Two months was a long time to go without seeing someone important to you, and letters were never as good as holding someone. It had been especially challenging this summer since Hermione hadn't been able to tell Luna about the Order of the Phoenix. She would trust Luna with her life, but the members of the Order had been as insistent on keeping Luna in the dark as Harry.

Hermione finally let go of Luna and sat next to Ginny. She looked around the compartment, content. Her best friends were all here and she was on her way to Hogwarts, the place where she was happiest in the world.

Ron was already stuffing his face with food and Luna had returned to the Quibbler.

"Anthony Goldstein and Padma Patil are the prefects for Ravenclaw," Hermione told Ginny.

"You went to the Yule Ball with Padma," Luna said, fixing eir large round eyes on Ron.

"I did," he said, sounding surprised.

"You didn't dance with her. She didn't have a very good time. I don't think I would have minded. Why didn't you talk about it beforehand?"

Ron looked round at Ginny for some sort of explanation, but she was giggling too hard at the confused look on his face to say anything to help.

Ron flushed red and looked down at his watch. "We're supposed to patrol the corridors every so often to hand out punishments. I can't wait to get Crabbe and Goyle for something."

"We're not supposed to abuse our position!" Hermione said sharply.

"Like Malfoy's not going to do it? I just want to get his mates before he gets mine."

"Malfoy's a prefect? I knew it," said Harry.

Hermione smiled grimly.

"I'll make Goyle do lines," Ron continued. "I ... must try ... not ... to look ... like ... a baboon's ... backside," he grunted in an incredibly accurate impression of Goyle.

Luna squealed with laughter, dropping eir magazine and clutching at eir sides. Ron looked shocked and then pleased with himself, then taken aback as Luna continued to laugh. Ey laughed until tears appeared in the corners of eir eyes. "That - was - funny!"

Hermione laughed uncomfortably along with em and shifted in her seat, embarrassed on her friend's behalf. The compartment door slid open again and Luna stopped laughing abruptly as Malfoy stepped into the room.

"What?" said Harry, cutting off Malfoy before he had a chance to speak.

"Manners, Potter, or I'll have to give you a detention. You see, I, unlike you, have been made a prefect which means that I, unlike you, have the ability to hand out punishments."

"Well you, unlike me, are a git. So get out and leave us alone."

Hermione, Ron, Ginny, and Neville laughed.

"You better watch it, Potter. I'll be  _ dogging _ your footsteps in case you step out of line."

"Get out," said Hermione, standing up. Malfoy smirked and swept out of the compartment.

Hermione exchanged a worried glance with Harry. They had both caught the emphasis Malfoy had put on dogging. Did he know about Sirius? They couldn't talk about it here.

After Malfoy was gone, Luna told Hermione and Ginny about eir summer. Hermione loved listening to Luna talk, even if half or more of what ey said had never been proven by the wixing community. Eir voice was mesmerizing, dream-like. Luna's voice calmed her anxiety and made her feel warm and happy. 

The train approached Hogwarts and they changed into their robes. Hermione handed Crookshanks to Ginny. "Treat Ginny nicely," she said, scratching Crookshanks behind the ears. "Deal?" she asked the cat. Crookshanks leaned into her touch and purred.

"I don't think that's a promise," Ginny said.

"I don't think so either, but he knows food is in the castle, so I think he'll go with you."

Ginny gathered the cat into her arms. He promptly jumped onto her shoulders. Ginny looked at Hermione with surprise. "Does that mean he likes me now?"

"He's claiming his dominance over you," said Hermione. "It means that he's accepted you as a temporary feature in his space."

"I guess that's all I can hope for from a cat. We'll save a seat in a carriage for you."

"Thanks," said Hermione. She had a sudden urge to kiss Ginny on the cheek. She almost asked if she could, but she didn't want to put Ginny on the spot or get rejected when there were a lot of people around. "I'll see you later," she said instead, waving goodbye to Ginny and the rest of her friends, before walking briskly off to where she could gather first years and be useful without having to think.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Thank you to Tove and Kiwi for beta reading and catching all my spelling mistakes and grammar errors!
> 
> Next update is Feb 15th :)


	7. The Daily Prophet is (actually) Fake News

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Trigger warning: PTSD from magic that parallels rape and sexual assault on pre-teens.
> 
> You can skip this chapter and still follow the plot. Take care of yourselves! <3

Hermione tucked herself into her sheets and sighed.

Lavender Brown had been having a go at Harry, calling both him and Dumbledore liars. She'd obviously soaked up everything the Daily Prophet had spewed about Harry over the summer. Hermione didn't really blame her, though she wanted to. She wanted to put everyone who was cruel to Harry in a full-body bind and stack them up in a dark, spider-filled, forgotten closet until they came to their senses. Or, failing that, she wanted a charm that would filter the hateful comments and keep them from reaching Harry’s ears. She contemplated the complexities of creating such a charm and then abandoned the idea. Harry wouldn’t want it. He’d said during the Triwizard Tournament last year that he didn’t mind how the school’s opinion of him flipped from adoration to condemnation and back again, and it seemed to be true. Besides, she wouldn't want to believe that He-Who-Must-Not-Be-Named had returned either. Most of her classmates parents, except for the few other Muggleborns, were survivors of the last war. Their parents had a better idea of the terror that accompanied You-Know-Who’s rise to power than Hermione did, they wouldn’t want their children to live through that, and denial was the first stage of grief. Still, it was so bloody  _ idiotic _ to ignore a potential threat as lethal as He-Who-Must-Not-Be-Named.

It had been a long day. She hoped the to-do over Harry would calm down as everyone got settled into classes. It made him angry at everything. The first years were so small! She still had to figure out how she'd fit her prefect duties into her over packed schedule. She was taking more than the recommended number of classes, which were all academically rigorous, and there was also S.P.E.W. to worry about. It was going to take her forever to fall asleep tonight.  


"Hermione?" said a whispering voice.

"Yeah, Ginny?"

"Can I come cuddle?"

"Sure," said Hermione. "Are you alright?"

"No. I didn't think so many people here would believe the Prophet," she said, crawling into bed.

Hermione spooned her, holding her friend tight.

"Are people judging you?"

"More like, talking about Harry when I'm around, like they don't care if I overhear. They know he's my friend. They're doing it to see if they can get a reaction."

"I'm sorry," said Hermione, giving her friend an extra little hug.

"I hexed a couple Slytherins who were being extra rude. It made me feel better."

"Not even here a full day and already hexing people." She should be vexed that Ginny broke the rules, but she found she had a hard time caring about the rules when it came to Ginny.

"They didn't even know who hexed them. One minute they're joking about 'The-Boy-Who's-Cracked' and the next moment their shoes are biting their toes."

Ginny laughed too loud and then her laughs turned to sobs. Hermione cast a silencing charm around the bed and held her while she cried out all the bad.

When her crying was only sniffles, Ginny asked, "Do you think I'll ever get over it?  _ Him _ being in my head?"

"I think it will get easier with time," Hermione said. "It's only been three years."

"I feel like it's already been three years, so I should get over it."

"You can heal at your own rate and in your own way," Hermione said.

"I was only eleven. He took over my body and made me do -- I did horrible things and I still can't remember all of it. When I think about it, it makes me feel … dirty and used up. There are days when it feels like it just happened yesterday, and I can't, I can’t do anything. I can’t face the world, can’t deal with everyone knowing or everyone having forgotten. I just want to be better."

Hermione buried her head in the back of Ginny's neck. "I'm so sorry you went through all of that." Ginny wiggled her butt back into Hermione.

They stayed like that for a long time, just breathing together.

"You've worked so hard. You are so, so strong. I've watched you take back your body and your magic, and I am so inspired by you. I can help you with the classes you miss, like before," Hermione said, her voice thick with sadness and rage and love.

"I don't care about classes," Ginny snapped. Hermione stiffened and there was a long tense silence. "I'm sorry," Ginny said.

"No, I'm sorry. I'm the one who cares about classes. What do you need?" said Hermione.

"I don't know," said Ginny and sighed. "Right now, could I spend the night here? I don't want to be alone."

"Of course," said Hermione. "You can sleep here whenever you like."

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I'm going to aim to have another chapter up soon for all y'all since this one's short and well, not fluffy.
> 
>  
> 
> Thank you to my amazing betas! Tove and Kiwi, your notes help me so much.


	8. Hermoine's Very Bad Day

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Hermione's first day of school is full of anxiety, frustration, and mistakes.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> This one is a bonus release to make up for the short chapter on the 15th. I'll have another update for all y'all lovelies on the 1st.
> 
> Thanks to Tove for the extra beta read!

Hermione dropped her inkwell in her rush to pack her bag between classes the next day. She watched it fall in slow motion and shatter on the flagstones. Ink splashed on her shoes, robes, and bag, and pooled in the mortar. She sat down with a thump and sighed. “ _ Tergeo,” _ she said, passing her wand over the spots on her clothes and the puddle of ink. She pointed her wand at the broken glass and cast  _ Reparo.  _ The inkwell reassembled itself, empty now.

She put the empty bottle in her bag and descended the stairs out of the castle alone, her classmates already on their way to Herbology. This was one more thing to add to her list of unpleasant things that had happened in the first two days of school.

Ginny was already gone by the time Hermione woke up. Then there was class after class of teachers reinforcing her anxiety over O.W.L.s. If she didn’t do well on her O.W.L.s, and then her N.E.W.T.S., she wouldn’t be able to get a job in the wixing world and she’d have to leave magic forever. She was out of space in her agenda to write homework assignments and they were only just past lunch, and now she was going to have to borrow ink from Harry or Ron for the rest of her classes.

Plus, a slow rage against Umbridge simmered in the back of her mind. From their first Defense Against the Dark Arts class yesterday it was blatantly obvious that she intended to purposefully deny them access to information and control every aspect of the classroom at all times. Her teaching philosophy was appalling. Hermione supposed she shouldn't be surprised, but she was shocked that anyone who was not affiliated with You-Know-Who could be so directly evil. She was going to do something about it. She just wasn't sure what. 

On the upside, some of the house elves had accepted her hats. Three of the five hats she’d left around the common room since the beginning of term were no longer there. The thought of freed house-elves wearing warm, cosy hats, cheered her up a little.

She caught up with Ron and Harry just as Ginny left the greenhouse.

"Hi," Ginny said brightly and weaved through the mill of students to give Hermione a one-arm hug around the waist. "See you later!"

Then Luna came out of the greenhouse and Hermione almost dropped her bag again. Luna walked in a daze, eir mind focused on something only ey could see. There was a smudge of dirt on eir nose and eir hair was twisted in a messy knot. A few loose strands fell down around eir face. Hermione had never seen em look more beautiful.

Luna saw Harry and her eyes widened. She marched up to him and said in one breath, "I believe He Who Must Not Be Named is back, and that you fought him and escaped him."

"Er - right," said Harry. Hermione smiled, her heart warm. Luna's delivery was terrible, but her heart was in the right place.

Parvati and Lavender were not of the same opinion. They pointed at Luna's radish earrings and laughed. Anger rose up in Hermione and she clenched her fists, fighting to control her rage and keep her magic from breaking loose. She glared at her giggling classmates. How  _ dare _ they laugh at Luna, just for being a little different?

"You can laugh!" Luna said, eir voice raised, "but people used to not believe in the Crumple-Horned Snorkack."

Hermione winced as Parvati and Lavender laughed louder. More people stopped to stare at Luna and Harry, since Luna had given them an excuse. There was Harry, alone in the centre of a ring of people, traumatized by his experiences in the graveyard and Cedric’s death, only barely allowed to return to school, and surrounded at school by people who didn’t believe the danger. "But there isn't actually a Crumple-Horned Snorkack," said Hermione. 

Luna's face fell. Hermione looked across the distance between them, eir blue eyes filled with tears, and knew, with a sharp clench around her heart, she had just said the one thing that hurt Luna the most.

"Would you mind not offending one of the only people who believes in me?" Harry said.

"But no one believes in the Crumple-Horned Snorkack except for Luna. It doesn’t help your case if ey announces that ey believes you and in a non-existent creature in the same sentence." Hermione said, avoiding looking at Luna as her friend walked away. The pinching in her chest was a fallen bookcase, crushing the breath out of her, but she had chosen this path and now she had to walk it.

"I thought you were friends," Ron said.

"We are. I mean, well, it's just that ey’s wrong," said Hermione.

Ron pursed his lips and raised his eyebrows. She could feel his disapproval like a physical thing, coating her skin with a thick layer of stinksap. She turned away from him.

"Just so you know, Potter, it's not only nutters that believe you. My family, we stand behind Dumbledore and you one hundred percent, always have," said Ernie Macmillan.

"Oh, um, thanks Ernie," Harry said, smoothing down his hair and looking away.

At least Lavender and Parvati had stopped laughing. "Come on," she said grumpily, "class is about to start."


	9. Ginny, Percy, and Padfoot

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> This chapter corresponds with chapter 14 in OotP.
> 
> These characters and etc are not mine. JK Rowling gets the credit, I just play in her world.

The good thing about being constantly stressed about school, Hermione mused, was that she was very good at time management. She crossed the last item off her to-do list for the day and smiled at the sun shine streaming in through the window. She gave a quick glance at what she had to do for two days from now, decided she could handle it tomorrow, and closed her agenda. It was Sunday, the rest of her afternoon was free, and she was going to enjoy it.

She left her books and notes on her shelf  in the study room. The other Gryffindors knew better than to mess with them. She had spelled them to jinx anyone who touched them without her permission, Ginny's idea, and very few Gryffindors actually used the small study room attached to their common room anyways.

Harry and Ron were bent over the table in the common room. Ron's face was scrunched up in concentration and Harry's face was carefully blank. It was the face he wore whenever he was cross about something. Hermione smiled, filled with affection, though she didn’t let the boys see it.

Ginny was sitting by the fireplace, reading a book with her legs over one arm of the armchair with her back on the other.

"What are you reading?" Hermione asked.

"It's about a witch who's doing an exchange program with a wixing school in Germany, and someone in the village is killed while she's there. She thinks it might have been her sister, who's a dark witch, so she's trying to solve the crime before the Aurors and save her sister. It's really good," Ginny said.

"Can I borrow it when you're done?"

"Sure."

"If you've finished your homework, do you want to come for a walk with me around the grounds?" asked Hermione.

Ginny hesitated, looking at her book.

"Are you at the best part?" Hermione teased. "It's okay if you don't want to come you know."

"I know. I do want to come." Ginny tucked her bookmark between the pages and lay the book on the coffee table. She smiled, a full wide smile, and some of her freckles disappeared into the crinkles around her eyes.

Hermione's stomach fluttered with anticipation, though she wasn’t quite sure what she was anticipating. It was just a walk.

 

They walked slowly around the lake, enjoying the last days of sunshine before fall became gloomy. The lake was a brilliant blue, as if there weren't creatures that could kill you lurking beneath the surface. Hermione was still baffled at the casual nature wixes applied to living near - or with - dangerous creatures. But she supposed that if your wand was always in arms reach, you would always be able to defend yourself. It was just one more thing that was different from the Muggle world where she and her parents were comfortably cocooned in the safety of suburbia. 

They came to rest under the willow tree by the lakeside. Ginny tugged her to the ground under the arched branches and they lay down, sharing silence companionably and looking up at the light filtering through the branches, painting the leaves different shades of green.

"Hermione?" Ginny asked.

"Yeah."

"Do you think what we do actually makes a difference?"

"What do you mean?" Hermione asked.

"Like, what we do with S.P.E.W. or with the Pride Alliance, or what the Order does."

Hermione rolled to her side and propped her head on her hand. "I have to," she said, looking straight into Ginny's eyes. "I wouldn't be able to do any of this if I didn't. I'd lose hope, and then there wouldn't be anything left."

"I've never asked you. Why does it matter so much to you? Sometimes it's like you're on a crusade and you're going to burn everything in your path."

"You’re the only person who can say that without it sounding like bad thing," Hermione said, and rolled onto her back to stare up at the tree. "I was teased my whole life in the Muggle world. For being Black, for being smart, for being queer. I thought, when I got my letter, that everything would be different here. Magically better. Instead, I'm discriminated against for being Muggleborn, slavery still exists, and wizards think they have the right to lord over every other sentient creature. It's worse here than it is at home. I'm not giving up magic for anything. Ever. So I've got to make this world one I can live in, or I'm taking everything out with me."

There was a moment of silence where Hermione stopped breathing, afraid she'd said the wrong thing, and then Ginny's face came into her field of vision.

"You're so amazing. You're so strong and brave and fierce. I love that about you." Ginny smiled, another full face smile that caught Hermione off guard and made her chest glow with warmth.

"Thank you," said Hermione. "What about you?"

Ginny turned her head and looked the the castle as she thought. Her red hair tumbled off her shoulder and waved in a gentle breeze. Hermione watched the threads of it dance in the wind.

Ginny looked back at Hermione, pushing her hair behind her shoulder. "I grew up the only designated female at birth child in a family with seven siblings. We're Purebloods, but we hate the whole system, and my dad thinks Muggles and their weird inventions are the coolest thing. My parents taught me that everybody is worthwhile. Even still, I'm bi and genderqueer and they would have a really hard time with that. At least initially. And so does the rest of the wizarding world. There aren't any laws to protect us, not really. I want to be seen as a real person. Every person - human shaped or otherwise - should be seen as a real person. You know?"

"I know," said Hermione.

"It's a good thing they've got us on the job," said Ginny. Hermione laughed. "I'm not joking! Well, only a little bit. We're very powerful wixes Hermione, and the two of us together, I think we could do just about anything."

The glowing in Hermione's chest spread to her stomach and hands. "You're really important to me," she said.

"You're really important to me too," said Ginny softly.

Her words floated gently like a feather deep into Hermione’s soul where her heart opened a door and let them inside to make a home by the fire. She realized she hadn’t breathed for a long moment and took in a deep breath. She beamed at Ginny, and held back her tears of happiness while she looked into her eyes. This woman, person, she corrected herself, was one of the best parts in her life. Energy built up in her body while they looked at each other.

Hermione wanted to kiss her. Did Ginny want to be kissed? What would happen if they kissed? Everything would change. What would Ginny even want? What did she want? She looked away. She was being ridiculous and imagining something that wasn’t there, but the energy in her body didn’t ease.

“Could we walk some more?” she asked.

They walked around the grounds, soaking up the sun, and they talked about school, friends, activities for their clubs, and practised spells. They walked until it was time for dinner, ate with Harry and Ron, and then went back to the common room to talk more while Hermione used magic to knit. She loved that she could spend all day with Ginny and feel like no more than a second had passed. 

Eventually Ginny picked up her novel and went to bed. Hermione turned from knitting to homework. Ron and Harry were still hard at work, and she wanted to keep them company. When the candle dipped past the 11:30 mark, she closed her books and went over to the boys. "Nearly done?"

"No," Ron growled.

Hermione peered at his Astronomy essay, "You've got the moons mixed up. Here, and here," she said, pointing.

Ron scratched out the errors, threatening to gouge through the parchment. "If you don't have anything good to say ..." he muttered.

Hermione wasn't listening. There was something flying outside the window. An owl that looked familiar. Was it ... Percy's owl? "Ron, look."

"What?" Ron said, cross, then followed Hermione's gaze to the screech owl. "Hermes! What's Percy writing to me for?" He let the owl in and took the letter off Hermes's leg. His face got redder the more he read it until he was the same flamethrower red as his hair.

"What - a - GIT," he said, teeth clenched and emphasizing each word by ripping up the letter into smaller pieces. He dropped the pieces on to the fire, not bothering to watch them burn.

"What did he say?" Harry asked.

"Congratulations on getting prefect. Stay away from you, Harry, because you're a nutter, and read the paper tomorrow - something about him, the Minister, and Umbridge. All hidden in drivel about how 'Good' the Ministry is and how 'Bad' Dumbledore is, and how Mum and Dad are on the wrong side." He kicked the leg of the table.

"I'm sorry, Ron. He's an idiot," Hermione said, putting her hand on his shoulder.

He smiled weakly at her. "Come on, we've got to get these essays done before the sun rises," he said to Harry.

Hermione sighed dramatically. "Alright, give them here. I'll look them over and correct them."

"What? Seriously? Thanks a million, Hermione." Ron handed over his essay into her outstretched hand.

"Just promise me you'll never leave your homework this late again," she said.

"I'll never be rude to you again," said Ron. "And if I am -"

"I'll know you're back to normal," Hermione said. She didn't mind their differences so much in that moment. He was a friend, and he needed her.

She set to work on the essays. Ron's was dismal, barely legible and filled with errors. She worked through it at a steady pace, crossing out incorrect sentences and rewriting them above. He was going to need to copy out the whole thing again. Harry's wasn't so bad. Except for a misspelled word here and there, he'd gotten everything right.

She stood to had their essays back to them when Harry gasped and ran to the fire.

"Harry?" she said.

"I thought I saw Sirius."

"Sirius? But he wouldn't come here. It's too dangerous."

"No, look! There he is!" said Ron. The three of them crowded around the fireplace.

Harry was beaming. "What are you doing here?"

"It's the only way I could answer your letter without replying in code. And those can be broken."

"You wrote to Sirius?" Hermione asked.

"Yeah. I forgot to tell you," said Harry.

"About your scar -" started Sirius.

"What about your scar?" said Hermione to Harry. “And Sirius, you really shouldn't be here."

He ignored her. "Your scar ached all last summer. It's bound to hurt more now that he's back."

"So you think it's just a coincidence? You don't think Umbridge is a Death Eater?"

"She's evil enough to be one," Ron muttered.

"The world isn't split into good people and Death Eaters, though she has done some terrible things. Made it nearly impossible for Remus to get a job. She hates half-humans. Say, what are her classes like?"

"Dreadful. She's not teaching is magic at all. We just sit and read the textbook," said Harry.

"We'll, I'm not surprised. Our information from inside the ministry says Fudge doesn't want you trained in combat."

"Trained in combat? Does he think we're trying to create an army?" asked Harry.

"That's exactly what he thinks Dumbledore is doing."

"So were not allowed to learn magic because Fudge is scared we'll use spells against the Ministry?" Hermione said. She was furious. Another tactic used by genocidal dictators had been brought into play: tightly controlling education to keep the people down.

"You know what?" said Ron. "I'm not even that surprised."

There was a moment of silence as they all contemplated the lows to which the Ministry of Magic had sunk.

"What about Hagrid? Have you had any news from him?" asked Harry.

"No. He was supposed to be back for the start of term but we haven't heard from him." Seeing their panicked faces he quickly added, "Dumbledore's not worried, so I wouldn't worry either. Hagrid can take care of himself." He paused, "Listen, when's your next Hogsmeade weekend. We got away with the dog disguise on the train. I thought I could -"

"NO!" Hermione and Harry said together, loudly. Hermione glanced around to make sure they hadn't woken any of the portraits.

"Didn't you see the Prophet?" said Hermione.

"That thing? They're always guessing where I'm at. They haven't got a clue."

"Malfoy said something on the train that made us think he knew it was you. And his dad was there on the platform. You can't come. If Malfoy recognizes you -" 

Sirius cut Harry off. "Alright, alright. I won't come. I thought you might want to get together."

"I do! I just don't want you to get chucked back in Azkaban!"

Sirius stared at Harry, sullen. "The risk is what would have made it in for your father. I've got to go. I hear Kreacher coming down the stairs. I'll write to you with the next time I can make it into the fire. That is, if you can stand to risk it."

There was a tiny pop, a plume of smoke, and Sirius was gone.


	10. Only Human

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Hermione apologizes to Luna, but can't help being who she is.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Thank you, dear reader, for your patience with this update. March was a little much in terms of school, but I should be back on my regular update schedule now (the 1st and the 15th of the month).
> 
> And many thanks to Tove and Brendon for their beta-ing. I'm so glad to have you both.

Before Hermione realized it, it was Wednesday of their second week of school. She gave Harry and Ron another warning that they should do homework instead of playing Quidditch. She was worried about them - even after their stress over homework on Sunday night, they didn't realize how heavy of a workload they faced, and slacking off meant never catching up. But she couldn't say she was too upset -- if she wasn't studying with them, then she could go to the Ravenclaw common room and study with her friends there.

She had long ago discovered that the Ravenclaw common room would let anyone in as long as they were well-intentioned and could answer the door's riddle. She liked to study there just as much as she liked to study in the library: in the library, she was surrounded by books; in the Ravenclaw common room, she was surrounded by dozens of people focused on learning. Plus, it was nice to study with her friends.

"I fly without ever leaving my perch. What am I?" asked the door.

Hermione considered and answered. The door swung open. She emerged from the short passage into the bright common room. Hermione's brain clicked into gear; the royal blue and warm bronze decor put her in the mindset to learn. Students studied at every table, heads burrowed in textbooks or murmuring incantations. Through the glass door to the smaller, socializing room, Hermione saw Luna deep in conversation. She hadn't apologized yet for lashing out. Hoping Luna hadn't seen her, she took an empty seat.

She loved that the Ravenclaws were so used to having her around that they didn't notice her red and gold tie anymore. Soon enough, people started to ask her questions. 

"Hermione, where can I find more information on the Protego Charm?"

"Could you help me decipher this Rune? I don't get what this part here means."

"Please, would you go over these wand motions with me?".

Hermione was happy to answer them all. She always liked being recognized for her skill. She also enjoyed that here, unlike with the Gryffindors, she was not considered the only expert available. If the other students wanted to talk about Potions, they would go to Norma. If it was Transfiguration, they'd go to Jane. It meant that Hermione was free to ask questions and seek help. Here, she didn't have to know it all. Everybody helped everybody else; it was part of Ravenclaw culture to value both learning and teaching.

When Luna came over an hour later, she was three-quarters of the way done with her Potions essay and halfway through a presentation to a group of attentive first years about magically making flash cards. Luna stared dreamily into the background of a portrait of Rowena Ravenclaw while ey waited for Hermione to finish. After the first years scuttled off, Hermione stood and swept Luna into a hug.

"You still haven't dealt with your infestation of Wrackspurts," Luna whispered.

"I'll get around to it," Hermione whispered back, resisting the urge to roll her eyes. "Listen, I'm so sorry about what I said to you outside of Herbology. I shouldn't have -- I know we don't always -- I won't do it again."

"It was the Wrackspurts," Luna said, looking away.

"Luna, look at me?" Hermione asked. Luna slowly raised eir head but couldn't meet Hermione's eyes. "Whether or not it was Wrackspurts, it was me that said it. And I hurt you. And I'm truly sorry."

"I think of you as my friend," Luna said quietly. Eir voice barely audible over the low buzz of studying. "I don't care if other people make fun of me. But you, you're always so nice to me. I don't know if I'm your friend, but you shouldn't ... I wish you hadn't said that."

"I wish I hadn't said it too," Hermione said. "Could we go somewhere quieter, somewhere more private to talk?"

Luna nodded and led the way back to her dorm room. Despite the best efforts of the house elves, the area around Luna’s bed was a tidal wave of open books, clothes, colourful scarves, half-finished craft projects, and loose parchment. The latest issue of the Quibbler was on her nightstand next to a picture of her father and mother hugging and laughing. Luna crawled over the mess and sat cross legged on her unmade bed. After a moment’s hesitation and stepping gingerly to avoid breaking anything important of Luna’s or getting her shoes covered in glitter, Hermione joined her on the bed.

“I didn’t like that Lavender and Parvati were laughing at you.”

“So you decided to make fun of me?” Luna said, eir voice raising to an angry squeak.

“No, I’m sorry. That’s not what I meant -- Let me start again?”

Luna waited in dispassionate silence. Hermione sighed. “People have been incredibly mean to Harry all week. It’s hard on him, and Ginny, and me, and Ron. We’re all keyed up and angry and scared that the wixing world isn’t taking the threat of You-Know-Who’s return seriously. We need people to believe Harry and Professor Dumbledore, and those people need to be convincing to wixes who don’t believe. I was caught up in defending Harry, and I don’t like that people make fun of you for being different. Sometimes --” Hermione took a deep breath, realizing that what she was about to say would not be easy for Luna to hear, but she had to be honest. “-- sometimes I wish you didn’t believe in things that haven’t been verified, like Crumple-Horned Snorkacks and Wrackspurts. Then maybe people wouldn’t bully you so badly.”

‘You want me to be different?” Luna asked. Quiet, open, afraid.

“No! Of course not. I like you, I really like you. You’re creative and kind and you carry a kind of peace that I don’t know if I’ll ever have. I think you’re amazing, and Luna, you  _ are _ my friend. But you’re already so different with gender and clothing and the way you act. That’s part of who you are and it’s beautiful, and I don’t think you should have to compromise on that. So why do you insist on believing in fantastic creatures that aren’t real?”

“Because that’s part of who I am too,” Luna said, looking at the picture on eir nightstand. “It is my father, it was my mother, it’s how I spend my summers, it’s how I see the world. Asking me to give that up is like asking me to stop being asexual because it makes people uncomfortable.”

“I’m sorry,” Hermione said. There was a long pause. Hermione didn’t know what to say next. There wasn’t a right answer to this problem. She didn’t believe in non-existent creatures, would never believe, but it was important to Luna, and she had made a mistake. “I don’t believe in the things you believe, but I will try to be supportive of you,” Hermione said.

“Alright,” said Luna. There was another tense moment.

“Can we still be friends?” Hermione asked.

Luna seemed far away, like ey had already forgotten Hermione was in the room, sitting on her bed, waiting for an answer. 

“Sure,” said Luna, a dreamy smile on eir face. Hermione couldn't read em. Were things actually alright between them? Had she really been forgiven? Or was she just reading too much into Luna’s tendency to let eir mind wander?

"Do you want to plan things for S.P.E.W. and the Collective? Ginny and I did a little, but we waited for you to get started properly."

“Sure,” Luna said and followed Hermione back to the common room where ey stared at the painting again as Hermione gathered her things from the table. Hermione finished packing her bag before Luna was done looking at the painting. She shifted awkwardly, trying to gain Luna's attention without directly interrupting em. She stared at the painting too, looking for what captivated eir attention.

A minute of silence later, Luna reached for Hermione's hand. She jumped at the unexpected pressure, then accepted the offering. They walked together awkwardly, arms stiff and bumping shoulders as they swayed out of time, but it was still nice, Hermione thought, despite the remaining little bit of tension between them. 

They found Ginny in the Great Hall at the Gryffindor table, scribbling down notes from her potions textbook. Luna let go of Hermione’s hand and floated over to Ginny, ey brushed eir fingers over the top of Ginny’s shoulder and Hermione shivered as if Luna had touched her. Ginny turned and gave Luna the same full-face, happy smile she normally only showed to Hermione. Hermione took a step back, wanting to flee, to have not seen the moment of intimacy between them, to be alone and quietly sit with a sudden deep sensation of loss she did not understand. 

“Well, if it isn't my favourite Ravenclaw,” Ginny said, tugging Luna by eir hand to invite em to sit beside her on the bench.

Luna giggled and tucked eir hair behind eir ear and climbing over the bench to sit, legs touching, next to Ginny. Hermione swallowed the sour taste in her mouth and looked away.

She scoffed at herself in her head. Ginny flirted with everyone, and Hermione didn't have any claim over her. She forced a smile. “And your favorite Gryffindor,” she said, arranging herself on Ginny’s other side.

“Don't be silly. I’m my favourite Gryffindor,” Ginny said, but she winked as she said it and Hermione laughed along to cover the discomfort of being corrected and rejected.

“Hermione wants to plan for S.P.E.W.,” Luna said, recapturing Ginny’s attention. Hermione caught the scent of Ginny’s hair as the redhead turned. There was something magical in Ginny’s shampoo they didn't have in Muggle soaps. During the summer, Hermione had used Ginny’s shampoo and conditioner when she’d run out of her own. While it didn't work as well as her regular hair treatment with her hair texture, she’d smelled like Ginny all the time.

“That's a good idea,” Ginny said, closing her textbook. She looked up as Hermione spotted a group of Slytherins walking their way. Ginny put a protective arm around Luna’s waist and pulled her in closer. Luna was startled for a second and then smiled up at Ginny from where ey was tucked in eir shoulder. Ginny smiled back so sweetly they became the only two people in the room that mattered. Hermione glared at the Slytherins hard enough they changed direction, and refused to watch her friends. Ginny relaxed her hold once the Slytherins were no longer a threat to Luna, and Hermione tried to pretend that everything was normal, though she felt just as small as insignificant as she had felt since the first, friendless months of Hogwarts all those years ago, before Harry and Ron had saved her from the troll. 

“So, what do we want to do in our clubs this year?” she asked, her voice bright and faking cheer.


	11. The Seeds of Rebellion

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> In which Hermione gets very mad at Umbridge and gets a good idea.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> TW for child abuse wrt Umbridge's detentions.
> 
> Sidenote: If you have any triggers you would like to me give trigger warnings for, please comment. And if I've missed anything, I'm sorry, and please let me know. I will fix it right away!
> 
> <3 Brendon and Tove, my lovely betas, thank you.

The announcement of Umbridge's "promotion" to Hogwarts High Inquisitor did not surprise Hermione, it slapped her like a belly-flop from the high diving board. Hermione had known from the first time Umbridge opened her mouth that the Ministry was interfering at Hogwarts. It was more obvious after her pathetic excuse for teaching, and now there was this. Slowly, the Ministry was eroding the school’s freedom and autonomy.

She wanted to fight for Luna, so that her friend could wear the uniform ey was comfortable wearing. Hermione feared it would be a losing battle, especially now that Umbridge had even more power. By the time she had worked through her morning classes, Hermione's anger had condensed into a solid mass of unyielding rage. She was not going to stand for this.

"Wands away. Turn to page nineteen of your textbook and read chapter two. There will be no need to talk." Umbridge's high and saccharine voice rankled Hermione. Calmly, she raised her hand and waited, no trace of her fury on her face. Umbridge had learned from their last encounter. She bent down close to Hermione and whispered, "What is it this time, Miss Granger?"

Hermione was not going to play her game. She spoke clearly so that everyone could hear. "I've already read chapter two."

"Then proceed to chapter three," Umbridge whispered.

Hermione noticed Harry and Ron watching her, as well as a few other pairs of eyes. She had a reputation. "I've already read chapter three. I've read the whole book."

"Well, then you should be able to tell me what Slinkhard says in chapter fifteen about counter-jinxes."

"He says people call jinxes 'counter-jinxes' when they want them to sound less bad." Umbridge's eyebrows twitched upward. Hermione wasn't sure if she was enraged or impressed. "But I disagree."

"You disagree?" Umbridge said, abandoning her whisper and straightening to her full height.

"Yes. Slinkhorn doesn't like jinxes, does he? But I think jinxes can be quite helpful when used defensively."

"You think —" Umbridge said, her voice shaking. She marched back to her desk, where she stood beside it, fingers pressed against the wood, and announced to the class, "What you think does not matter, Miss Granger. I am here to teach you with Ministry-approved methods in a safe manner. I will take five points from Gryffindor."

The room gasped. "For what?" demanded Harry.

Hermione shot him a glare. "Don't get involved," she whispered. Umbridge would love nothing more than another excuse to punish him.

"For needlessly interrupting the class. Your previous teachers may have been more lax on the matter, but your opinion is not necessary or desired. In fact the only teacher you've had that's been any good to you so far was Professor Quirrell."

"Yeah," said Harry, lifting out of his chair in his outrage. "There was just the minor drawback of having Lord Voldemort riding around on the back of his head."

The room went deathly quiet. No one moved as Umbridge's grin grew as broad as the Cheshire Cat's. "Another week of detention, I think, Mr. Potter."

* * *

 

"What were you thinking?" Hermione rounded on Harry after class.

"I dunno, I wasn't," he said with a shrug. "She just makes me so angry."

"Can't you see she's trying to get a rise out of you? She's going to use every opportunity she can to hurt you."

"How come you're the only one who gets to have a go at her?" Ron said.

"Because she doesn't have a personal vendetta against me and because I'm not stupid enough to defy her delusional beliefs directly!"

"Lay off, Hermione. He has to go slice his own hand open now because of that demon."

Hermione deflated. "I'm sorry. I know. I don't want you to have to go back to her either. She shouldn't be able to get away with this, and you have to miss Quidditch again. I'm sorry."

There was a beat of quiet. Then Ron said, "I'd love get back at her somehow. Maybe Fred and George would have an idea."

"No, Ron. We're prefects. We shouldn't be encouraging them." Hermione considered what she'd said. "Actually, I think this would be one instance where I wouldn't mind provoking the twins to trouble."

* * *

Hermione used the hours between the end of classes and dinner to magically copy posters for S.P.E.W. and the Collective. The first meetings for both clubs were this week, and she was excited to see everyone again. That task complete, she went and studied in the common room. Crookshanks claimed her lap. He purred while she tried to read, sending deep reverberations through her bones, and occasionally would headbutt her arm to demand pets. He made it hard to concentrate on her textbook, but she was having a hard time focusing anyways. She kept thinking about Umbridge's falsely sweet voice and the gleam of satisfaction in her eyes when she sentenced Harry to more detentions. She closed her eyes and wished Professor Lupin was still teaching them. They needed a better teacher, but he couldn't help them now.

After dinner, she and Ron did their prefect duties while Harry was in detention, Ron asked, "I wonder how Harry's doing."

"I hope he's alright and not antagonizing her more," Hermione said.

"She shouldn't be allowed to do that to him — using his own blood to write lines. I think it's really messing with him," said Ron.

"Yeah?" Hermione said, already problem-solving. "We need to tell someone, maybe Professor McGonagall or Professor Dumbledore. They'll put a stop to it. She's abusing children. There's no way she can be allowed to get away with that."

"Man, I'd love to be a portrait on the wall for that conversation," Ron said.

"The ministry must have a provision against abuse. Filtch is always moaning about how he never gets to torture us any more, so someone must have stopped him."

They finished their rounds in silence while Hermione thought. People had rights and children had those same rights with extra provisions because of their vulnerability at the hands of adults.  Luna and Ginny might have done ideas and she could get S.P.E.W. to help if she could point them in the right direction.

"I need to go to the library," she said. "Or no, wait, I can do that later. There's a potion I read about that will help with his hand." She disappeared into the study room and returned with a book.

"That's not our textbook," Ron said, glancing at the cover.

"No, I picked it up over the summer before coming to Grim- to stay with you, because I was interested in potions with practical applications that could be brewed relatively quickly." She rifled through the pages. "Ah, here. Murtlap. Come down to the potions room with me. We can brew this before Harry's finished detention."

"Oh no, I'm no good at potions," said Ron.

"Then you need the practice."

"And I've got . . . homework."

"Nice try. You're coming to help me and I'll help you with your homework later."

"Deal," said Ron, "but I'm holding you to that."

* * *

 

Brewing potions was more fun without Snape breathing down her neck. Hermione enjoyed how exact the process was, like laboratory science. All she had to do was follow the instructions exactly and she would get a perfect potion every time. Ron was much less precise.

"No, stop! You have to level off the top of the measure before you add it," Hermione said, stopping Ron in the nick of time before he added too much powdered sap to the potion.

"Sorry," he said, ducking his head. "Your way just takes so long."

"Well, my way is right," said Hermione.

"As always," Ron muttered under his breath, just loudly enough that she could hear him.

"Do you want to help Harry or not?" she demanded, her voice cutting.

"I want to help," said Ron, colour coming to his cheeks.

"Then do what I tell you and follow the instructions," she said.

"Fine," he snapped back.

They worked for a minute in tense silence.

"Does it make you tired? To be so angry and always trying to be perfect?" Ron asked, his voice soft in the dusty quiet of the potions room.

"I'm not angry," Hermione said, instantly defensive, then sighed. "Maybe I am. There's so many things wrong with the world, and when you can see how much better everything would be if done properly . . ."

"You're not always right, you know," Ron said, carefully weighing a purple powder before adding it to the bubbling potion. "I mean, you're usually right, but not always."

"I prefer to think that I am rarely wrong," Hermione said. She tried to look at him with a straight face. He stared at her, incredulous. The corners of her mouth twitched, and they both collapsed into giggles.

* * *

 

When Harry returned from detention, clutching his bleeding hand, Hermione and Ron were back in the common room going over Ron's homework with the finished potion in a flask. Hermione poured it out into a bowl and handed it to Harry. "Put your hand in this. It will help." Harry sunk his hand into the sticky yellow substance and sighed with relief.

"Listen mate, I reckon you should complain to McGonagall about this," Ron said.

"No. She'll talk to Umbridge, and how long do you think it will take before Umbridge passes another educational decree that anyone who complains about the High Inquisitor gets sacked?" Harry said.

"She's an awful, awful person. We need to do something about her," said Hermione.

"Yeah, like poison," scoffed Ron.

"I mean, since we're not learning anything in class, we could try to learn ourselves."

"You want us to do more work? Do you know how far behind Harry and I are in our classes? And it's only the second week."

"This is more important than homework!" Hermione said. Ron and Harry stared at her dumbfounded.

"I could have sworn Hermione said there's something more important than homework," Harry said to Ron.

Hermione flushed, but continued. "I mean it. We've progressed farther than we can learn just from books. We need a real teacher, someone to show us how to do the spells and correct us when we're wrong."

"You mean like Lupin?" asked Harry, brightening at the idea.

"He could only come for Hogsmeade weekends, and that's not enough. Actually, I was thinking about you. _"_


	12. Capital 'A' Activism

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Hermione's week is busy with the first meetings of both S.P.E.W. and the Queer Youth Collective.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> TRIGGER WARNINGS:  
> This chapter is heavier than those previous. There is transphobia and gender policing (via Umbridge), and Hermione has to deal with people verbally and physically attacking her because she's Black and Muggleborn. There's also a heartfelt conversation about Cedric's death.  
> Take care of yourself!
> 
> Also, I am a white author. I am trying to write Hermione's experiences as a Black person with care and sensitivity, and I know that I will not always achieve that goal. If there is anything in my writing that is incorrect, offensive, or racist, please don't hesitate to let me know.   
> I promise to listen and change.

In the aftermath of Harry's explosions, Hermione always turned to chocolate. It was a habit she had picked up in third year and never stopped. She didn't know how to deal with his anger — it came from nowhere and was directed at everything. It was so different from the way she experienced her anger, which was focused and targeted at the problem. His anger detonated.

She sucked on the chocolate, savoring the moment where the walls grew thin just before they broke and released the caramel sweetness at the centre. The house elves knew her favorites, and she had a hard time objecting to gifts of chocolate laid out on her bedspread.

This was her last piece. They hadn't left any out for her in a while.

She was not going to bring up the subject of a Defense Against the Dark Arts club again for a bit. Harry would think about it on his own time and on his own terms and she would check in with him again. In the meantime, she had two other clubs to worry about.

 

The first meeting for the Queer Youth Collective was the Thursday of their second week of school. They met in the empty Transfiguration classroom after classes. McGonagall charmed the room so no one else knew who was there or could identify people as they entered and left the space. That, plus the added weight of McGonagall's wrath, kept anyone homophobic from targeting the club members. Mostly.

Ginny had a special arrangement with the house elves to get them snacks, and so they were always well supplied with all of their favorite treats during meetings. Hermione scooped blueberries into a bowl to munch on as she cleared away the desks and set up a circle of chairs. Despite how passionately she felt about S.P.E.W. and its mission, the Collective was her favorite. It was one of the only places she let herself have fun. There were no rules, no obligations  (besides planning an event for the group every so often); it was just a place where she could relax enough with her friends to be herself.

Luna entered just as she and Ginny had finished setting up the chairs. Hermione brightened. Luna came about every other week — Hermione figured ey forgot what day it was — but when ey did, the group was always better for it.

"Professor Umbridge threatened me with detention if I didn't wear a kilt instead of pants the next time I go to class," ey said, as calmly as if ey was reciting a list of potions ingredients.

"Can she do that?" Ginny asked.

"I think she can," said Hermione. "There's nothing in the rules about having to respect a student's gender identity."

"That's such bullshit!" Ginny said, just as Blaise Zabini came in.

"What's bullshit?" they asked.

"Umbridge making Luna wear the kilt," Ginny said.

"She can't do that, can she?" they asked.

"She's an eyepiece and mouthpiece for Fudge. She can do whatever she wants," Luna said. Of course Luna had noticed Umbridge's underlying message in her welcoming speech. "But she didn't say anything about what I could wear  _ under _ my kilt."

Ginny giggled. "She'll be so mad."

"I'll probably still get detention, but it will be worth it."

Hermione's stomach dropped. No one else knew what Umbridge did to students in detention. She couldn't tell Luna either, because that would betray Harry's trust. Neither could she stomach the idea of Luna getting hurt. "Maybe you should just wear the kilt."

Everyone in the room stared at her. Hermione's face burned.

"I've never known you to back down from a fight, Hermione," said Blaise.

"No, I'm not! I think that Luna and everyone else should be able to present as the gender they want ... It's just that Umbridge is dangerous. She's mean. And I bet she's got a direct line to the Minister. I don't want anyone to get on her bad side."

"It's my choice, Hermione," Luna said, eir voice transformed from tinkling bells to a flat soprano. Eir tone threatened in its reminder that Hermione had only recently recovered their friendship from the last time she’d publicly sided with Harry.

"I will support your choice," Hermione said, bowing out of the conversation, but still nauseous at the idea of Luna waltzing towards writing lines siphoned from eir blood.

The rest of the club members filtered in and their chatter covered the awkwardness as they settled into the circle, checking in with each other about their summer holiday.

As they introduced themselves and their pronouns around the circle, Hermione was very conscious of Cedric’s absence. Without him, the room was empty and less comforting.

“We haven’t met … we haven’t met since last year since Cedric died.” She paused to take a shaky breath. “I miss him. He was important here. I can almost hear his voice telling us how he spent the summer playing Quidditch and volunteering at camps. Could we — could we have a moment of silence just to remember him?” she asked.

She looked around the room and saw that people were nodding, so she bowed her head and let her tears flow silently. When she looked back up, everyone’s eyes were wet.

Hermione looked at Ginny with a question in her eyes, not sure how to move on.

“Maybe we could help do something later this year? Around the anniversary of his … of his death?”

“I would like that,” said Chris, a brown Muggleborn and second-year Hufflepuff. Cedric had been his mentor in the ways of the wixing world, protector, counselor, and friend. He was barely twelve, tiny, and without Cedric by his side he looked like he was trying to fade into the whitewashed walls.

“Chris, do you think Peter would get some good from that?” Luna asked gently. Peter had been Cedric’s boyfriend, in his seventh year now, and his absence from their meeting was conspicuous.

Chris nodded mutely, and his friend, Amanda, wrapped a comforting arm around his shoulders.

“In Hufflepuff we’re meeting once a week to talk about Cedric and how we're coping. If any of you want to join, you'd be welcome,” said Amanda.

“Thank you,” said Blaise, their voice still choked with tears. Hermione was surprised. She hadn't realized Blaise had been close with Cedric, and she was always a little wary around Blaise because of their association with Malfoy, but here was real emotion, politeness, and compassion. She resolved to give the Slytherin more of a chance.

The mood lightened somewhat as Hermione, Ginny, and Luna revealed the upcoming events: a Muggle movie night, a crafting party, and hopefully an inter-house slumber party if they could get permission. Hermione had fun, but she wasn’t able to fully relax the way she usually could when she was surrounded by other queer folk. She kept sneaking glances at Luna, trying to decide if she should tell em about the blood quill.

By the end of the meeting, she had decided. She would never forgive herself if she allowed em to move forward without all of the information.

"Would you take the plates back to the kitchen?" Hermione asked Ginny after the meeting was over and the members disbanded.

"Sure," Ginny said, levitating the dirty dishes, leaving Hermione and Luna alone.

"Luna, look, I have to tell you something."

"Is it about Umbridge?" ey asked.

"Yes, it's— “

"I don't want to hear it. I thought you’d at least be supportive of my gender."

"Please, it's important," Hermione begged. Luna nodded, not making eye contact with Hermione as ey pushed the desks back into place. "Harry's been in detention with her for the past week. She makes him do lines using a quill that cuts the words into his hand and used his blood for ink. When he came back to the common room last night he was still bleeding."

Luna softened as ey spoke. "You didn't want me to get hurt."

"No," said Hermione, examining Luna’s face and posture for any sign she’d made the right choice.

Luna walked toward her and brushed eir fingers on Hermione's upper arm. "Thank you."

"I wanted you to know what you were walking into. It's still your choice, but you needed to know what you were choosing."

"Harry doesn't want you to tell anyone, does he?" Hermione shook her head. "I won't tell anyone else, or him. I promise."

"Thank you," said Hermione.

"I care about you too," said Luna.

Hermione hugged em, hands pressed into eir shoulder blades to pull em tight.

 

Hermione wanted to spend the evening with Luna and Ginny reviewing their plan for S.P.E.W. and formulating a strategy to deal with Umbridge. Harry wasn’t showing any signs he was interested in teaching. Unfortunately, Ginny was spending her evening with Michael. They had dated briefly at the end of last school year, but Ginny had broken things off over the summer. Hermione had nudged Ginny toward the relationship as a way to get over her feelings for Harry. Hermione liked Michael well enough, but she was disgruntled about having her plans shifted for the evening.

She studied in the Ravenclaw common room for a little while with Luna, but she was too restless to focus. She left her books and went for a walk around the halls.

Out of habit, she wandered toward the library, though she wasn't really paying attention to where she was going. She was reminiscing about her summer — cuddling with Ginny and playing with her hair. She was so preoccupied with her thoughts that she didn't notice the group of three Slytherins loitering in the empty hallway until she was only a couple of feet from them. She jerked in her step, and pointedly looked past them.

Maybe if she ignored them, they would leave her alone — though Pansy Parkinson was in the group, so she doubted she would be so lucky.  She didn't know the other two. She surreptitiously reached for her wand sheathed in its leather casing on her left forearm.

"Look, it's a Mudblood," one of them drawled. Hermione didn't know her name. She was a sixth year, a foot taller than her, and looked strong.

"This one's got extra dirt on it," the other one said. He was a sixth year too, whip thin with an oily sneer. He leaned up to tug on a lock of Hermione's natural hair.

She ducked her head to avoid his groping hand, her face flushed with rage. She hoped they mistook it for fear. She saw Pansy's leg coming out to trip her on her next step and whipped out her wand.

Without saying a word, she cast a jelly leg jinx on Pansy and a Silencing Hex on the boy who'd called her dirty. Pansy collapsed to the floor, unable to hold her own weight. Hermione snapped around to face the boy, who was frantically clawing at his mouth. His lips were sealed together.

She rose up on her toes, leaning in to him and getting in his face. He scrambled away from her, shying away from her skin. "What was that? I can't hear you," she said, pausing dramatically. "Nope, still can't hear you. Well, there is this Muggle saying that if you don't have anything nice to say, you shouldn't say anything at all."

Pansy and the other Slytherin raised their wands to attack. She disarmed them both with one swoop of her wand. "I hope the rest of your week is worse from here on out," she said. She was tempted to spit on Pansy, considered restraint, and then spat a huge gob of saliva onto Pansy’s prefect badge. She walked away from them without glancing back, and looped around to the Ravenclaw common room.

She didn't start shaking until the door of the common room swung shut behind her. Then she ran to the bathroom and threw up.

Feeling better, she wiped spit off her mouth with a trembling hand.

Padma came in, worry lines deep in her face. "What's wrong?"

"I got jumped by a group of Slytherins," she said.

"Merlin's beard, did they hurt you?" Padma asked.

"I hurt them," Hermione said, grim and proud. She flushed the toilet.

"You’d think they would have learned to leave you alone by now."

"I think it's going to be worse this year with You-Know-Who back. They'll be bolder," Hermione said.

"They're not the sharpest to begin with, either. I'm glad you're okay."

"Thank you. Would you mind, could you find Luna for me? I'm still a little shaken, and I would like it if ey walked me back to Gryffindor."

When Luna arrived, ey reached for her hand. Hermione took it, though they were potentially attracting more attention from Slytherins and other homophobic slime balls as they walked through the halls. She couldn't bring herself to care. Between her and Luna, they could handle anything anyone threw at them, and eir hand was everything Hermione needed at that moment: solid and comforting, soft, and caring.

They walked in silence. Hermione floated on the edge of Luna's serenity, outside of reality, and they arrived at the Fat Lady Portrait without incident.

"May I give you a hug?" Luna asked.

Hermione slid her arms under Luna's and they held each other tightly until the Fat Lady cleared her throat.

"Are you coming in, or not?" she said.

"I'm coming," said Hermione, releasing Luna. "Thank you," she said, giving eir hand one last squeeze.

"Thank you for asking me," Luna said, and then Hermione disappeared behind the portrait.

 

"I think we need to start a map tracking incidences of harassment and bullying," Hermione said after the round of check-ins at their first S.P.E.W. meeting. "We can do it in conjunction with the Queer Youth Collective. Then we can figure out areas of the castle that are less safe and work out some kind of way to protect those areas."

"I don't think we've got that big of a bullying problem," said Michael Corner.

"I was bullied last night for being Muggle-born and Black," said Hermione, no inflection in her voice. "If you talk to anyone here who isn't white, or isn't straight, or isn't Pureblood, I can guarantee to you that they have been bullied at some point." Heads around the room nodded in agreement.

"Oh — okay. I'm sorry," Michael said.

"Acknowledged," Hermione said, briskly moving on to delegating parts of the project. The discussion was lively. Hermione stepped back to let Ginny catch their energy and pull it forward into brainstorming for the changes they wanted to see at Hogwarts, and then transition them into a community-building game. The meeting ended with everyone in high spirits and full of fire for their tasks. As they left, Hermione handed each of them a small piece of parchment with a personalized list of tasks, and reminded them to come next week. The room emptied and Ginny and Hermione looked at each other, faces flushed. 

"We did it!" Ginny said, running toward Hermione to sweep her up in a hug. "A successful first meeting." 

Hermione giggled as Ginny picked her up and swung her through the air. When Ginny set her down, they were close together, foreheads almost touching, and looking into each other's eyes. Hermione's stomach flipped over and she had the urge to kiss Ginny. She ducked her head instead and stepped away.

"A very good first meeting, yes," said Hermione, twisting a spring of hair in her fingers. "How is week two of class?" 

Ginny reordered the classroom as she answered. "Same old. Potions is dreadful, Umbridge is awful, Transfiguration is hard but fun, and Charms is great. I really wish Professor Lupin was still teaching us. I learned so much from him."

"I miss him too. It would be nice to have him around for support instead of just Snape."

"He's not exactly friendly or forthcoming when we need him," said Ginny.

"I guess I’ll trust him because Dumbledore says we can, but I'm never going to like him."

"He's cruel, and unfair, and doesn't actually teach us," Ginny said.

"Right? He just leaves instructions on the board and tells us to follow them. There's no difference between that and a textbook. He only helps Slytherins, and even then only when they ask for it." Hermione rolled up the parchment files with her notes and they shuffled the last two desks back into place.

"We could do this with magic, you know" Hermione said.

"I know," said Ginny. "I like getting to debrief after the meeting and spend some time with you. It's nice when Luna stays too."

"Oh. Thanks," said Hermione.

"We haven't spent much time together as the three of us yet this year. We should do that," said Ginny, surveying their handiwork. The rows were back in straight, neat lines, as Professor McGonagall liked.

"Sure," Hermione said, picking at some loose threads at the edge of her kilt. She didn’t really want to spend time with Ginny and Luna alone again. She didn’t like the way it made her hands get sweaty and her throat tight. “That would be nice.” She didn’t look at Ginny as she spoke, and tweaked one desk to make the room perfect before they left.


	13. Jealousy will drive you mad

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Thank you to Tove for being my beta and all the good feedback!

Hermione spent three days of intense effort practising Vanishing spells in the quiet of the Gryffindor study room. On the third night of practice, she successfully vanished her mouse, tail to whiskers. Puffed up and proud of herself, she went to tell Ginny. She was going to be able to show Professor McGonagall the next day in class, and she would be the first one in her year to cast the spell.

She found Ginny in her dorm room with Luna. They were sitting on Ginny’s bed, Ginny’s back against the headboard with Luna resting against her, sitting in between her legs. Ginny had her arms around em. “Oh,” she said, pausing in the doorframe. “I’m sorry. I didn’t mean to interrupt.”

“You’re not interrupting. Come join us,” said Ginny.

Hermione hesitated. “Are you sure?”

“Come sit,” said Luna.

Hermione sat on the end of the bed opposite them. She didn’t know what to do with her feet. She couldn’t put them on the bed since she still had shoes on, but she couldn’t sit comfortably with them dangling over the edge and still see Luna and Ginny. She decided it was better to be uncomfortable.

“How was your day?” she asked.

“Good. Yours?” asked Ginny.

“Good,” said Hermione. She paused for Luna to answer, but ey was staring off into the distance and didn’t comment.

“What did you do?” Hermione asked.

“Class, you know. Nothing interesting,” said Ginny.

“I managed to vanish a mouse,” Hermione said, but her sense of accomplishment had dwindled. Why would Ginny be interested in knowing that? Why had she even come?

“That’s nice,” said Ginny.

“I might get to try something larger in class tomorrow,” said Hermione.

“Where do the mice go? When you vanish them,” asked Luna.

“Professor McGonagall said they ‘go into non-being,’” said Hermione.

“What does that mean?” ey asked.

“I think it means they break down into atoms or very small parts,” Hermione said.

“Aren’t you killing them, then?” asked Luna.

“I guess so,” Hermione said. “They are only mice. Muggles do science experiments all the time.”

“It doesn’t seem very kind,” ey said.

“But how else are we supposed to learn?”

“What did you do today, Luna?” Ginny interrupted.

“Classes. Same as you.”

Hermione stood up. “I’m going to go study some more.”

“Wait,” Ginny said, catching her wrist as she walked by. “Did you want something?”

Hermione’s breath caught in her throat, tingles on her skin where Ginny touched her. “No. I don’t need anything.” Hermione said. She pulled away from Ginny, the air cold on her skin where Ginny’s fingers had been.

“Won’t you stay?” asked Ginny.

Hermione met her bright brown eyes and looked away. “I have some more studying to do. You two have fun.”

Downstairs in the study room,  in the common room, she opened her History of Magic textbook and her eyes filled with tears. She couldn’t see the words on the page. She slammed the book closed and levitated it back to her shelf so hard it slammed into the wall. She gulped in a deep breath and held it as she sedately walked back up the stairs to her bed. Slowly, deliberately, she took off her shoes and closed the curtains around her four-poster. Only after she cast a silencing charm did she allow herself to cry.

When had everything gone wrong? Last year she, Ginny, and Luna had been an unstoppable team. Being around both of them had made Hermione feel invincible and now she felt extraneous. Ginny liked Luna better than Ginny liked her, and she couldn’t even talk to Luna. She clutched a pillow into her stomach and sobbed into her sheets. She could barely stand to be around Ron—he was so rude!—and Harry had yelled at her just a week earlier. They were her oldest friends at Hogwarts. She was losing all her friends and she was going to be alone again. The only thing she was good at was school. She should just put her head down and study, ignoring everyone. That had to hurt less than this.

She cried herself out and was still miserable. Too exhausted and unhappy to move, she fell asleep in her clothes.

 

She woke up feeling better, if rumpled and poorly rested. Ginny still liked her, even if she was interested in Luna; they were so close they were practically sisters. She could be happy with that. Ron and Luna didn’t understand her—they frustrated her, but they could make peace. She was alright. She changed out of her creased uniform and put it in the bin for the house elves to clean (She had tried to do her own laundry in the dorm sinks, but the sinks were too small and it took too much of her time away from studying.) She left a pair of knitted socks on top of her clothes. Maybe someone else would be freed.

She wondered how many elves she had freed with her gifts of hats and socks. No one had said anything about it to her, and work around Hogwarts was still getting done. Maybe the teachers didn’t want to make a fuss.

She wished that she could tell S.P.E.W. about her efforts—then members in different houses could free the house elves who cleaned in the other dormitories—but she had promised Ginny after the debacle in fourth year that she wouldn’t try to free any more house elves. S.P.E.W. had moved away a little from elvish welfare after that. The house elves were upset and didn’t want anything to do with their organization, but Hermione still cared about them. If she could free a dozen or so over the course of the school year, she would be proud of her work. She just couldn’t tell Ginny.

She sat with Ron and Harry for breakfast. Ginny was already on her second helping and sitting with people from her year, plus Hermione wasn’t sure she felt ready to hear about Ginny’s night with Luna.

They had double Potions with the Slytherins to start off their morning. Hermione pretended Pansy Parkinson was a particularly gruesome stain she didn’t want to clean and ignored her, though the taunts still rang in her ears. How did people get to be so hateful?

“What do you think Malfoy’s so pleased about?” Harry asked his green eyes on the slender blonde who was monologuing. Pansy laughed shrilly and Hermione shuddered.

“I dunno, but if Malfoy’s pleased about it, it can’t be anything good,” Ron said.

“We need more witch hazel from the storeroom anyways. I’ll go get some and see if I can hear what he’s saying,” said Harry.

“No, Harry, don’t—“ Hermione started, but he was already walking away, “—antagonize him.” She looked helplessly at Ron as Harry sidled closer to Malfoy, who shook his head. What were they supposed to do to stop him?

Harry returned with the witch hazel without causing a scene. “He was just prattling about his father’s influence in the Ministry and ‘justice getting served’, but I didn’t hear what he was referring to.”

“Do you think he found out about your trial?” Hermione asked, suddenly worried.

“So what if he did?” Harry asked. “It’s not a secret. And they let me come back to school. If he knew, I’d think he’d be making a bigger fuss of it.”

“But it’s Malfoy. If he’s happy, someone else is taking the mickey,” Ron said. “What’s the Ministry trying to do right now, Hermione?”

“How should I know? I don’t have a pretty, Pureblood father to feed me Ministry secrets. All I know is the drivel they put in the _Daily Prophet_ , just like you.” Hermione said.

“Yes, well, you’re cleverer than us. Surely you’ve noticed something we haven’t. Plus, you still read the whole thing. Harry doesn’t even bother with the front page anymore,” Ron said.

She laughed and ruffled his hair. He blushed and flattened his hair out again. “It’s good to be familiar with your enemy’s tactics,” she said and considered his question. “The wizards your father caught, the ones who were exploding Muggle toilets, were let off with a warning. That could be it. There’ve been a few op-ed pieces about establishing another wixing town like Hogsmeade in Cornwall, as a wixing vacation hotspot, but it would displace a lot of magical creatures and Muggles. There’s some pushback, but not much, from inside and outside the Ministry. I can’t think of anything else.”

“I’ll owl Dad, see if he knows anything,” Ron offered.

“Thanks,” said Hermione, and Ron blushed again.

She rolled her eyes when he couldn’t see. He still had a crush on her, no matter how many times she told him that she wasn’t interested in men. It didn’t seem to sink in that she was never going to date him. Then again, you didn’t get to pick who you had crushes on. The memory of Luna in Ginny’s arms was fire-poker painful. She focused on brewing their potion and ignored the smouldering ashes in her stomach.

The fire roared to life again when she saw Ginny sitting at the Ravenclaw table with Luna for dinner. She smiled at them and continued to walk to the Gryffindor table, but Ginny called her over. “Hi,” Hermione said, trying to smile normally.

“Come have dinner with us,” Ginny said. “The boys will be alright without you for one night.” Harry and Ron were sitting so they could glare at Malfoy and his cronies across the Great Hall. Malfoy, Crabbe, and Goyle were glaring back.

“It doesn’t look like it,” said Hermione.

“Come on, we’ll make room,” Ginny slid along the bench so she was closer to Luna and there was a big enough gap for Hermione to take a seat.

“Is it okay if I eat here?” Hermione asked Luna and the nearby Ravenclaws.

“Of course,” said an Irish girl. Hermione tried to pull her name: She was in her year; she struggled with time management, but had an amazing memory for stories... Sue Li. That was it.

“Why wouldn’t it be?” Luna asked, eir diamond eyes examining Hermione. The fire in Hermione’s belly leaped into her chest and burned her throat. Luna was moving in on her best friend and acting like there wasn’t a problem.

“Of course,” said Hermione, and she sat down stiffly, trying to keep her legs and arms a good distance away from Ginny’s personal space. She didn’t want to make Ginny uncomfortable, or seem possessive in front of Luna. She was bigger than that.

Thankfully, the food appeared right as she sat down. She helped herself to a full plate; carrying around her emotions all day was extra work that made her hungry. She took a big bite of creamy mashed potatoes and immediately felt better. “I asked Harry a week ago if he would be interested in teaching us Defense Against the Dark Arts,” she said.

“That’s a brilliant idea!” said Ginny, mouth full of food.

“Thank you,” said Hermione, tucking a plait behind her ear. “He doesn’t want to do it though.”

“That’s unfortunate,” said Ginny. “Why don’t you teach it?”

“I’m not the Chosen One.”

“Lots of people who are going to fight in this war aren’t the Chosen One,” Ginny said. “You’re just as good at Defense Against the Dark Arts as Harry, and you’re a great teacher.” She nudged Hermione gently with her shoulder.

Hermione blushed, and glanced at Luna, who was absorbed in her food and not paying attention. “If Harry doesn’t want to teach, I’ll consider it.”

She gave the idea more thought over the following week. She would be able to teach people enough to pass their O.W.L.s, probably, and she would attract people to the study group who were interested in learning defensive magic, but ultimately Harry was the better choice. He was fast on his feet, responding quickly in situations where she froze. She liked to plan, and while she was busy planning, he had already jumped into action. There was value to both strategies, she knew, but fast reactions and quick judgements were skills her friends would need on the battlefield of the coming war. He carried an easy charisma that charmed people to him. If he was teaching the class he would draw in their peers, those who were ready to fight to defend their lives and human rights against the forces of He-Who-Must-Not-Be-Named. If she recruited students who were eager to learn, and Harry charmed them, they could actually start to create an army that could stand against You-Know-Who. The thought amused her. Maybe Fudge did have something to worry about after all.

She was studying Potions in the library with Ron and Harry on a stormy evening when she decided to broach the subject again. “I was wondering whether you’d thought any more about Defense Against the Dark Arts, Harry.”

“Of course I have. I can’t forget it with that witch teaching us.” He spat “witch" when he said it, refusing to give Umbridge the dignity of her name.

“I meant the idea that I had, for you to teach us.”

Ron looked up, alarmed at the suddenly dangerous direction the conversation had taken.

Harry was silent for a long moment. Hermione had almost decided he was just going to ignore her when he said, “Well, yeah, I’ve thought about it a bit.”

“And?” said Hermione eagerly.

“I dunno,” said Harry.

“I always thought it was a good idea,” Ron said. Hermione resisted the urge to glare at him. She didn’t want to fight with him when Harry might just be about to agree to help.

“You know how to do loads of things fully-grown wizards can’t do, Harry. Will you teach us?”

“Just you two, yeah?” Harry asked.

“Well,” Hermione swallowed, her throat dry from nerves. “I’ve actually mentioned the idea to a few people, and they seem really interested—please don’t get mad again, Harry. I just think that it’s a good idea to teach anyone who wants to fight V-Voldemort. It doesn’t seem fair to just teach the two of us.”

“Who else would want lessons from me? I’m a nutter, remember?”

“You might be surprised,” Hermione said, thinking back to the interest at the Ravenclaw dining table: They wanted to pass their O.W.L.s and be prepared for the future, and the Hufflepuffs were eager to defend the innocent. The Queer Collective was afraid; they knew that if You-Know-Who won, they would likely be some of the first to burn. “Look, next weekend we get to go to Hogsmeade. How about we tell anyone who’s interested to meet us somewhere in the village to talk it over?”

“Why do we have to do it outside school?” asked Ron.

“Well, because I think Umbridge would be less than pleased to discover what we were up to, and we might be better off if it stays underground.”


	14. Without Compromise

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> The first meeting of what will become Dumbledore's Army meets in the Hog's Head. Hermione is uncompromising and makes bad relationship choices.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I was behind schedule with sending this chapter to my betas, so any mistakes here are mine.
> 
> Updated June 15th with edits from my lovely betas.

Hermione skillfully avoided Luna all week, except for the S.P.E.W. and Queer Collective meetings. She knew she was being petty, but she couldn’t trust her jealousy to stay contained. If Ginny and Luna got together, then she wouldn’t have a place with them anymore, and she didn’t know how much she could stand to be nice and afraid at the same time before cracking and saying something she’d regret. Her breath hitched when she saw Luna and Ginny enter the Hog’s Head hand-in-hand, but she smiled and waved and focused her attention on Harry, who was agitated about the massive crowd that swept into the Hog’s Head out of the rain.

The Hog’s Head was hardly an improvement from the gloomy weather. The pub was dingy: The windows were so coated with grime that barely any daylight was able to get through. The little light shed by lamps and candles only showed the depth of layers of mould and dirt on the floor, in the corners, and on the tables. Hermione sat delicately on a bench and tried not to touch the table.

“A couple of people?  _ A couple of people? _ ” Harry hissed at her.

“Yes, well, the idea seemed quite popular." Hermione was pleased with the turnout. She hadn’t been sure they would all show, but everyone she’d talked with had arrived. “Ron, be a dear and pull up some more chairs, will you?”

The meeting almost fell into chaos when Harry accused the crowd of solely coming to hear the gory, juicy details about Cedric’s death. It would have fallen apart entirely if it hadn’t been for Susan Bones asking a simple question.

“Is it true you can produce a corporeal Patronus?”

“Yes,” said Harry, still surly. “Wait, do you know Madam Bones?”

“She’s my auntie. So it’s really true? You can cast a stag Patronus?”

“Yes,” said Harry.

The assembled students got excited, asking questions to confirm the rumours they’d heard about Harry’s adventures throughout his first four years of Hogwarts. Even with Harry becoming increasingly uncomfortable with the praise, the group agreed that they wanted Harry as their teacher.

“We think the reason Umbridge doesn’t want us trained in Defense Against the Dark Arts is that she’s got some mad idea that Dumbledore could use the students in the school as a private army against the Ministry,” Hermione said.

Everyone looked stunned at her announcement, except for Luna who said, “Well, that makes sense. After all, Cornelius Fudge has got his own private army.”

“What?” asked Harry, who pulled back from shock.

“He’s got an army of heliopaths,” said Luna.

Hermione’s lungs collapsed. “No, he hasn’t,” she snapped. She had asked Luna not to do this in public, to not discredit Harry by associating eir belief in him with eir belief in unproven myths. Yet here ey was again, about to destroy another victory for the war.

“Yes, he has,” said Luna, glaring at Hermione across the crowded corner.

“What are heliopaths?” asked Neville.

Luna said, “They’re spirits of fire, these great, tall, creatures. They burn everything in their path as they —“

“They don’t exist, Neville,” Hermione said.

“Oh yes they do!” said Luna, eir voice brittle.

“And where is the proof of that?” snapped Hermione.

“There are plenty of accounts. You’re just narrow-minded and obtuse. You need to have something shoved right under your nose before you will even consider —“

“Hem, hem,” coughed Ginny. It was such a perfect imitation of Umbridge that Harry, Ron, Lee, Neville, and several others looked around in alarm. “Weren’t we going trying to decide how often to meet for lessons?”

“Yes,” said Hermione, deflating and looking away from Luna’s enraged face and Ginny’s disappointed smile.

“Once a week sounds good,” said Cho.

“As long as it doesn’t interfere with Quidditch,” said Angelina.

“Yes, yes, we know about Quidditch,” Hermione said, failing to keep the tension out of her voice. She took a sheet of parchment from her bag and hesitated. She hadn’t told anyone, not Ginny or Luna or Harry, about the spell she’d placed on the parchment. If she asked people to sign to secrecy, no one would know the consequences of breaking that oath. It wasn’t consensual, but she thought it was a necessary precaution. If word got to Umbridge about their meetings, then Harry would be in danger. They would all be in danger. Anyways, the curse shouldn’t cause any permanent damage, but it would prevent the group from pointing fingers at each other to find the spy. She couldn’t pass over a clear strategic advantage.

“I - I think we should all write our names down so that we know who was here. But also, I think we need to swear to each other that we won’t speak to others about what we’re doing. So if you sign this, you are agreeing not to tell Umbridge, or anyone else, what we’re planning to do.”

Fred took the parchment and signed it with a flourish. George took it from his brother. After some hemming and hawing from the other students, and reassurances that she wouldn’t be careless with the list, all twenty-five attendees wrote their names down.

Hermione still hadn’t looked at Ginny and Luna, and she continued to not-look directly at them as Ginny gingerly took Luna’s hand and the pair left with a group of fourth years. Her fight with Luna was going to have consequences.

She didn’t have long to wait. Ginny kept throwing her significant looks over dinner. Hermione knew her well enough to know Ginny wanted to talk. They walked in silence back to Gryffindor, and Hermione followed Ginny up the spiralling stairs to the girls’ dormitory, head bent and focused intently on the texture of the flagstones.

“Can we go to my bed?” Hermione asked. Ginny nodded, and they walked up to the fifth year dorm. No one else was there, thankfully. Hermione didn’t want to have an audience for this. They sat cross-legged on the bed facing each other, not touching, not even close. Hermione clasped her hands together so tightly her knuckles paled to a light brown.

“So, what was that about?” Ginny asked.

“I don’t know. I’m sorry,” said Hermione, all in a rush.

“That’s not good enough!” Ginny snapped.

Hermione finally looked squarely at her friend, shocked at the outburst, her eyes filling with tears.

“I’m sorry,” Ginny said and sighed. “Just, tell me what you were thinking?”

“You know about the fight we had at the beginning of term?” Hermione asked. Ginny nodded. “When we made up, I told em that they would discredit Harry if ey put eir belief in Harry alongside eir belief in creatures that don’t exist. Ginny, we need people to believe in him and his story. We need them to believe that Vol-Voldemort is back. We can’t win the coming war if most people refuse to believe that a war is happening! We will all lose.”

“We’re only teenagers. None of the adults will listen to us, and my mom won’t let us get involved. I want to hope, but can we actually do anything that will make an impact?” 

“We can do a lot!” Hermione said, her voice rising higher. “We have to do as much as we can. If the Death Eaters win, then it won’t matter if we’re teenagers. I’ll be killed. Or tortured and then killed. So will every other Muggleborn, and queer and trans person, and maybe even every wix of colour. Plus a whole bunch of Muggles. We have to do everything we can. I can’t live with myself if I do anything less. This isn’t a game.”

“I know this isn’t a game!” Ginny was close to shouting too. “But even if you’re only thinking from a strategic point of view is it really a good idea to alienate one of your biggest supporters? In public? So that everyone who is considering joining sees how you treat your allies? But even more than that, Luna is supposed to be your friend. You’ve hurt em, deeply. It’s not okay to treat your friends like that!”

“I’m sorry,” Hermione said. She didn’t know what else to say.

“What if I disagree with you someday? Will you mock me in public? What about Harry? Is your way really the only right way?”

“No,” said Hermione, trying desperately to make it sound like a statement rather than a question. She had a niggling feeling under her ribcage that she didn’t believe herself. It didn’t help that she almost always was right, in her classes as well as with her observations and predictions.

“What are you going to do?” Ginny asked.

“I’ll apologize to Luna,” Hermione said. “And hope ey forgives me.”

“I hope that’s enough,” Ginny said, getting off the bed.

“Wait, Ginny, are you mad at me?” Hermione’s voice wavered.

“A little,” Ginny confessed.

“I am sorry,” Hermione said. “I didn’t want to hurt em.”

“I know,” Ginny said. She pushed back Hermione’s baby hairs and kissed her on the forehead, then walked away.

Hermione looked for Luna at breakfast the next morning, but her friend wasn’t there, nor was ey in the Great Hall for lunch. By dinner, Hermione was worried. Had ey been in eir classes? Was ey sick? Had Hermione hurt em so badly that ey didn’t want to risk the possibility of seeing her?

She went to the infirmary first. Madam Pomfrey hadn’t treated em, but she did give Hermione a Pepperup potion to help Luna make up for the missed meals. As Hermione climbed the stairs to Ravenclaw Tower she rehearsed possible speeches and imagined Luna’s response. What would she do if Luna was still angry? If ey forgave her? If ey was cold and indifferent?

“What goes up and never goes down?” asked the door to the Ravenclaw common room.

“I don’t know. A balloon?” said Hermione.

“Incorrect,” said the door, a little smug.

Hermione wondered if she took an axe to the magic door if she would actually be able to do any damage. Probably not, unfortunately. “I don’t know and I don’t care. My friend is sick and I need to see her. Em. I need to see em,” Hermione shouted. A few people down the hall looked at her and looked quickly away. Great.

“What goes up and never goes down?” the door repeated.

Hermione kicked the wall. “An idea?”

“Wrong. What goes up and never comes down?”

“I’m going to find a magical axe to cut you down,” Hermione muttered. She kicked the wall again. “Smoke?”

“Incorrect.”

“Argh!” Hermione said throwing up her hands and walking a circle around herself.

Ginny walked up beside Hermione. “What goes up and never goes down?” the door asked.

“I’m going to find a way to murder that door,” Hermione told her, kicking the wall again.

“Age,” said Ginny, and the door opened.

Hermione stopped kicking and looked at her, surprised.

“Come on,” said Ginny, passing through the doorway. “You can’t think properly right now. Let’s go see Luna.”

“Was ey in class today?” Hermione asked.

“No,” said Ginny. “Ey sent a classmate with a note to all eir professors saying ey wasn’t feeling well. I wasn’t really worried until ey skipped dinner. I hope the house elves brought em some food.”

Hermione hesitated when they arrived at Luna’s dorm room. Should she knock? Yes, she should. She took a deep breath to steel herself and knocked on the door.

“Who is it?” Luna asked, eir voice startlingly sweet considering ey possibly hadn’t eaten in the past twenty-four hours.

“Hermione and Ginny,” Hermione said.

There was a long pause. “Go away,” Luna said, grumpy.

“I got you some Pepperup potion from Madame Pomfrey,” said Hermione.

“Have you eaten?” asked Ginny.

“A little,” Luna said.

Hermione stared at the closed door, shrugged one shoulder, and opened it anyway. Luna was in her pj’s under the covers, holding a stuffed crumple-horned snorkack and watching the picture of her parents.

“Luna, sweetheart?” Ginny said, approaching the lumpy comforter. She stepped onto a slightly less treacherous part of the mess and reached over to stroke Luna’s knee. “How are you feeling?”

Luna’s eyes flicked over to Hermione. “I’m fine,” ey said, reaching for Ginny’s hand.

Hermione swallowed. Her mouth tasted sour. “I was worried about you,” she said. Were they dating? They looked like they were dating. “If you don’t want me here, I can go. I just … wanted to see if you were alright, and say I’m sorry, and give you the potion from Madam Pomfrey.” She placed the potion in its peppermint-swirled frosted glass vial on the nightstand next to two abandoned cups of tea and a browning banana peel.

She stepped back from the halo of mess around Luna’s bed and glanced around. Ginny was focused on Luna’s face. Their hands were tightly clasped in such a natural way that Hermione was envious. Luna’s pale grey eyes, like clouds before lightning, stared at her. Hermione looked down at her hands and rubbed her writing callus. The silence stretched.

“I’m sorry,” Hermione said when the silence got to be too much. “I shouldn't have said what I said at the Hog's Head. Ginny’s right. I should value you and the allies I already have rather than worry about the opinions of those who aren’t on my side.”

“Is that the only reason you’re sorry?” Luna asked. In the empty dorm room, eir sweet whisper was louder than thunder.

‘No. I undermined you, again, after I promised I wouldn’t. I’m sorry. I’m trying and I’m not learning fast enough and I’m sorry I messed up and hurt you again. I didn’t want to. Please, give me another chance?” Hermione put all of her heart into her apology, barely keeping her tears from spilling over as she looked into Luna’s eyes.

“I don’t have so many friends that I can afford to lose them, but I don’t need so many friends that I want to spend my time with people who don’t respect me. I need time,” Luna said.

Hermione swallowed hard, forcing down the wail that wanted to break free from her throat . It hurt. She wanted to beg Luna to change eir mind, to let her tears carry the desperation with which she sought forgiveness, to beg for another chance. “Okay,” she said, unshed tears clenching her voice. “Okay,” she said again, stronger. “I understand. Please drink this,” she said, tapping on the stopper of the Pepperup Potion. “And let me know if there’s anything I can do to make up for the hurt I’ve caused you.”

Ginny was crying now, holding onto Luna’s hand like it was a life preserver. Hermione wanted to touch her, to smooth her hair or touch her shoulder and tell her that it was all going to be okay. But Ginny was intertwined with Luna so that if she touched only Ginny she feared she would still cross Luna’s boundaries. Instead, she turned and shambled out of the dorm room, gently closing the door behind her. Without any presence of mind, she walked out of Ravenclaw Tower, down the temperamental flights of stairs, out of the castle and onto the Quidditch training grounds. She was so focused on keeping her emotions contained that she couldn’t see through the fog in front of her eyes.

“Alohomora.” She unlocked the door to the shed that stored the brooms for first-years. She wasn’t supposed to be flying after hours or using school brooms without supervision, but she needed to fly faster than the anguish that was overtaking her.

“Up,” she commanded, and the broom nearest the door snapped into her hand. She mounted it and took off before she had time to question herself. She crouched over the  handle, urging the over-worked and spindly school broom to go faster. The cold wind whipping past her face forced the first tears from her eyes, and then she was sobbing as she flew over the Forbidden Forest, the storm inside her finally escaping.

She hated herself. She hated everything she was. She was despicable. Unforgivable. Unlovable. Of course Luna hadn’t forgiven her. Of course Ginny had chosen Luna over her. They were both better off without her, they were just too kind to get rid of her until she’d given them an excuse. The only reason anyone else tolerated her was that she could help them with schoolwork. That was the real reason Harry and Ron were still friends with her, because nobody would actually want to be her friend. She missed her parents and the comforting Muggle world where she could be ordinary and didn’t have to worry about the politics of war.

She cried until crying felt ridiculous and self-indulgent, and continued to fly over the forest once her tears had dried. She wasn't ready to go back inside and face her responsibilities, but as the sun dipped lower in the sky and the horizon bled orange, she cast a Tempus charm and sighed. She had to head back to the castle now or she would abandon Ron to their prefect duties alone.

Her eyes were still sore from crying as she made her way up to Gryffindor Tower. She rubbed them with the heel of her hand; despite knowing that would only make them more irritated, she wanted to pretend she could simply wipe her problems away.

"There you are," Ron said as she climbed through the portrait. "I thought I was going to have to do rounds without you — oh," he said, as he noticed her puffy eyes. He glanced around the common room, which was buzzing with activity.

Hermione held her breath and prayed he wasn't going to draw attention to her. She needed the adoration of the younger years to be a good prefect, and she wanted the respect of the older students.

"Alright, let's go then," Ron said and brushed past Hermione to lead the way out of the portrait hole.

Hermione fell into silent, thankful step beside him. She didn't want to tell him that she had alienated his sister and therefore ruined the happy dynamic for them all during the summer holidays. Would she ever be allowed back to the Burrow?

"So Luna's mad at you, hey?" Ron said, shattering the comfortable silence as they patrolled the third floor.

"What? No. What makes you think that?" Hermione asked, alarmed that their fight was so obvious. 

"You yelled at her in the Hog's Head yesterday and Ginny said she wasn't in class today. Ginny was really worried, and you disappeared for a few hours, came back windswept and nearly late, and you've been crying."

Hermione looked at him sharply. She thought she preferred it when he was obtuse.

"We're not fighting. We're just...taking a break from being friends. Also, Luna uses ey pronouns."

"How is 'taking a break from being friends' not fighting?" Ron asked.

"Luna said ey needs some time. I'm just respecting eir boundaries."

"Sounds like fighting to me," Ron said. He put up his hands in surrender when Hermione glared at him. "I'm not trying to pick a fight."

"You could have fooled me," Hermione snapped. Perfect. Now Ron was going to be mad at her too.

Instead, he pulled her into a tight hug. Hermione stiffened. She didn't want to be reminded that there were still people who cared about her. She didn't want forgiveness. She wanted the world to hate her as much as she hated herself because that would be a fair punishment for how she had treated Luna. But Ron wouldn't let go.

It had been awhile since they'd last hugged. She was always conscious that he was attracted to her, and didn't want to navigate the uncomfortable barrier where he wanted her as a girlfriend and she wanted him as a friend. But she didn't feel that tension now. He was holding her as tightly as a father would swaddle his baby, and suddenly she felt safe.

Her heart opened up again and she was sobbing into his shoulder, soaking his robes. Her gasping breaths echoed in the empty hallway.

He didn't let go.


	15. Educational Decree Number Twenty-Four

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Umbridge gains the power to disband clubs. Hermione scrambles to come up with a plan to get S.P.E.W. and the Queer Collective reinstated as her relationship with Ginny and Luna gets increasingly more complicated.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I'm sorry this update is late! I'm traveling with my folks and the Wi-Fi g has been terribly spotty.  
> Thank you to my lovely betas for their notes and critiques. You make this work feasible.

Hermione examined her edges in a levitating mirror. She had done her box braids right before school started; since they were already in the first week of October, she pencilled in time next weekend to redo her plaits. She examined her face in the mirror again. She was going to have to see Ginny today, and possibly Luna, too; she decided to gel her baby hairs. Even if she felt like sun-bleached rags, she could put on a performance.

She slung her book bag over her shoulder and nearly stumbled as she left her room. The stairs had transfigured into a slide—some boys had must have tried to get into the girls’ dorms. She slid down into a crowd at the bottom of the stairs, where Harry and Ron were waiting for her.  
“What were you trying to get into the girls' dormitory for?”  
“To see you,” Ron said. “Have you seen this?” He grabbed her by the elbow and steered her to the notice board where a large sign covered all of the other announcements.

> **By the Order of the High Inquisitor of Hogwarts**  
>  All Student Organizations, Societies, Teams, Groups, and Clubs are henceforth disbanded.  
> An Organization, Society, Team, Group or Club is hereby defined as a regular meeting of three or more students.  
> Permission to re-form may be sought from the High Inquisitor (Professor Umbridge).  
> No Student Organization, Society, Team, Group, or Club may exist without the knowledge and approval of the High Inquisitor.  
> Any student found to have formed or to belong to, an Organization, Society, Team, Group, or Club that has not been approved by the High Inquisitor will be expelled.  
> The above is in accordance with Educational Decree Number Twenty-four.  
> Signed:  
> Dolores Jane Umbridge  
> High Inquisitor

Hermione took it in quickly. Rage settled over her, a heavy, cold feeling like she’d been struck by Petrificus Totalis. Someone had told Umbridge about their meeting at the Hog’s Head.  
“Someone must have blabbed!” Ron fumed.  
“If they did, we’ll know soon enough and they’ll regret it,”  
“What? There’s no way to know who it was! Who knows if we can actually trust all of those people who showed up, or if there were others in the pub who were listening,” said Ron.  
“I put a jinx on the parchment we signed for exactly this reason. If it was one of us, we’ll know exactly who tattled.”  
“Nice one, Hermione,” Ron said, grinning broadly. Hermione smiled with relief. She should have known that Ron and Harry wouldn’t mind her subterfuge; they both knew from experience that sometimes you had to break the rules in order to keep everyone safe.  
“This means I will have to get permission to reform S.P.E.W. and the Queer Collective!” Hermione realized with a gasp. “Umbridge hates magical creatures, there’s no way she’s going to agree to it—and we’re already registered as a club so she knows about us. Blast. I have to find Ginny.” She pulled up short. Would Ginny want to see her? Maybe this was a good excuse for Ginny and Luna to stop working with her. Would they abandon her in this? “But let’s eat first.”  
Ron and Harry didn’t put up an argument. The Great Hall was just as chaotic as Gryffindor Tower as students from all houses discussed the decree. Few people were actually sitting; most were clustered in small groups or pacing the lengths of their house tables. The trio found their usual seats. They were tucking in when Chris, the second year Hufflepuff from the Queer Collective, tapped Hermione on the shoulder. Amanda was standing behind him.  
“Does this mean that the Queer Collective has been disbanded?” Chris whispered.  
Hermione spun around on the bench to face him, swallowing a bite of toast. “Yes,” she said. His face got red and blotchy, like he was holding back tears. “I’m sorry, Chris. I’m going to go talk to Umbridge as soon as possible and try to get us reinstated. Hopefully, we can still have a meeting this week.”  
“What if she won’t let us meet?” Amanda asked.  
“We will figure something out. We need each other too much. It’s going to be okay,” she promised them, though she didn’t know if she could keep that promise.  
“Thank you,” Chris said. She stood and hugged him. He was so young and small, and carrying so much grief over losing Cedric. She would do her best to make sure he had the community and support he needed through the Queer Collective.  
Amanda put her arm around his shoulder and Hermione watched them walk back to the Hufflepuff table together. When she turned back, Ginny was there. Hermione shrunk into herself.  
Ginny smiled, and it was a true smile, kind and warm all the way to her eyes, a smile that told Hermione they could still be friends. “I heard the announcement," Ginny said.”I went to Professor McGonagall and got these forms. We’ll have to fill them out, but hopefully we'll be able to get both S.P.E.W. and the Queer Collective approved by Umbridge."  
Hermione gingerly took the offered parchment. “Thank you,” she said. “I will fill these out right away.” She hesitated before asking, “How is Luna doing?”  
“Ey is alright—a little shaken, like everyone, but optimistic as always."  
"And how are you?" Hermione asked quietly. She wanted to reach forward and brush Ginny’s hand, hold it, and pull Ginny to her chest to hold her tightly like nothing ever happened.  
"I'm all right," Ginny said. She looked down at her hands. “I wish things hadn't turned out the way they…”  
“Me too," Hermione cut in. "Can we—are we still friends?"  
“Of course we are. You are more than just a friend, Hermione,” Ginny said.  
Hermione’s heart fluttered and she couldn’t stifle a quick gasp. How long had she been waiting for Ginny to say those words? She fought to control her face and won, smiling as though Ginny had merely complimented her hair.  
“I’m still upset with you, but yes, we’re still friends. And I want to keep these clubs going. The school needs them, and I need to feel like I’m doing something,” Ginny said. She smiled and squeezed Hermione’s shoulder, then turned to walk to the Ravenclaw table.  
Before her good sense told her to stay quiet, Hermione blurted out, “Are you and Luna dating?” She knew she’d drawn several pairs of curious eyes.  
Ginny turned back as slowly as a swinging broadsword. “No. Let’s not talk about this here, alright?” she said and smiled again, lips pulled thin against her teeth.  
“Of course,” Hermione said, attempting to regain some gracefulness. She sat down next to Harry and Ron with a thump.  
“What was that about?” Harry asked.  
“S.P.E.W. and the Collective,” Hermione said. “Are Cho and Michael heading over here to talk to us? They can’t! It’s too suspicious. Ron, make them stop.”  
He stood up to intercept him and she was relieved that she’d managed to distract Ron. Harry had already forgotten his question. He was staring over at Malfoy again. She hoped they weren’t gearing up for another fight, but at least he wasn’t questioning her about Ginny anymore.  
In History of Magic, she filled out the re-application forms for her clubs at the same time as she took notes. The forms were simple enough that she could still focus on Professor Binns’ droning lecture.  
What is the purpose of your club? asked the form. Hermione tapped her quill and sighed as she dabbed at the splattered ink. Should she lie? Probably, but she had no idea how she could disguise the “Society for the Protection of Elvish Welfare” or the “Queer Collective” as anything other than what they were. She wondered if Umbridge had access to her previous club application forms. If she did, then it didn’t matter what Hermione wrote on the re-application form, since Umbridge could just look at the old records.  
She realized she’d stopped paying attention to the lecture and tried to catch the thread: they were still in the first few battles of the Goblin Revolution. Good—she’d already read about that.  
A loud smacking sound from behind jolted her out of her concentration. She turned and saw Hedwig scrambling at the window, trying to get in. Harry leapt up and released the catch, raising the window to let his owl inside. She was crooning with pain; one of her wings was bent so that she couldn’t close it, and several of her flight feathers were out of place. Harry hurried off to get her help, and Hermione gave up on listening to Professor Binns.  
What had happened to Hedwig? She’d probably been coming from Sirius or Grimmauld Place, at least. Was something wrong at the safe house? Maybe she’d been attacked during her flight? Hermione sucked in a deep breath as realization struck her: she’d been intercepted by Umbridge. Umbridge was reading Harry’s mail.  
Hermione crossed her fingers and hoped there hadn’t been anything important in the message. If Sirius had written about Order secrets then that information was already on its way to the Ministry.  
Harry rejoined them as they were waiting for Potions.  
“Is Hedwig going to be okay?” Ron asked.  
“Yes, Professor Grubbly-Plank said she’d be fine in a few days,” Harry said.  
“That’s alright, then,” Ron said, clapping Harry on the back.  
“Was she carrying a message?” Hermione asked.  
Harry nodded, “From Snuffles. Just ‘Same time. Same place.’”  
“Oh but he can’t,” Hermione said. “I think Umbridge attacked Hedwig. If she knows and can guess where he’ll be…it’s not safe.”  
“The message didn’t look like it had been opened,” Harry said.  
“That would be easy enough to fake with magic,” Ron said.  
“It doesn’t matter anyway, because we have no way to tell him not to come,” Harry said.  
“Bloody hell,” Hermione cursed. They needed a secure way to get messages in and out of Hogwarts. She saw Blaise walking up to them, and jerked her head to draw Harry’s and Ron’s attention to the approaching Slytherin. The trio fell silent.  
“What’s up, Scarhead?” he asked, as casual as if he’d asked what they’d served for breakfast. Harry prickled and Ron puffed up his chest.  
“Listen, mate—” Ron started.  
“Relax. I’m just here to talk to Hermione,” Blaise said.  
Ron and Harry looked incredulous and didn’t back down.  
“It’s alright,” Hermione said. “We’re working on an Arithmancy project together.” Snape opened the doors to the Potions classroom and students started streaming in. “Go ahead. I’ll be there in a second.”  
Ron and Harry left her with reluctance. Harry threw a final, curious glance over his shoulder at her and Blaise before he passed through the dungeon doors.  
“Thank you for that,” Blaise said.  
“What?” Hermione was startled.  
“For lying about Arithmancy. I’m not very comfortable with…” he trailed off and waved his hand in a small circle.  
“Oh, no problem. As thanks, you can stop calling my friends mean names.”  
Blaise looked shocked for a second, then laughed. “Deal,” he said. “I wanted to ask if you’re asking to reform the Queer Collective.”  
“I’ve already filled out the forms,” she reassured him.  
“Good,” Blaise said, releasing a large sigh. “I was thinking...“ He took a deep breath. “...that it might be a good idea for a Slytherin to take the forms to Umbridge.”  
“Are you offering?” Hermione asked, surprised once again.  
Blaise took another deep breath that lifted his shoulders towards his ears. “Yes, I am.”  
“Thank you,” said Hermione. “You’re right. I think she’ll be a lot more likely to accept it coming from a Slytherin. She loves your house.”  
“I know,” Blaise said, rolling his eyes. “Most of my house loves her.”  
“But not you?” Hermione questioned.  
“It’s hard to get on board with ‘pureblood values’ when my parents would likely feed me love potions for the rest of my life to get me to marry a woman and carry on the family line.”  
“That’s horrible,” Hermione said.  
“It is,” Blaise said, holding out his hand for the parchment. “I need the Collective. Everyone does, but I’m the only Slytherin. If it gives us a better chance at keeping the club going, then I guess I’ll be the sacrificial lamb.”  
“Thank you,” said Hermione, handing him the form. She met his eyes and they both smiled at the same time. He tucked the parchment into his bag and they entered the Potions classroom together. Blaise had been surprising her all year—maybe he wasn’t as bad as he pretended to be.


End file.
